


Subject 723

by HolmesHarleyWatson



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesHarleyWatson/pseuds/HolmesHarleyWatson
Summary: She was just a weapon they created; just their puppet, their slave, their experiment. Just another cybernetically engineered mammal with a little bit of an interesting DNA cocktail. They hadn't planned on the Guardians of The Galaxy destroying Ego, they hadn't planned on being infiltrated by the Nova Corps. She hadn't planned on being bound to Rocket for life as his mate.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Prologue  
Chapter 1

She wondered what they had done to her now. She awoke feeling groggy from the anesthesia and sore at the surgical site of yet more implants, but those were both things that she was used to by now. The thing that was bothering her so much right now was that she could hear the thoughts of the mammals inhabiting the cells to her left and right. She could accutely sense their emotions; which were just as desperate and anxious as her own usually were. To her suprise, she felt completely calm and perhaps more aware upon waking. She was aware of her surroundings in the cell; it was ten feet tall and twelve feet wide. The concrete was solid and cool to the touch; fifty-three degrees ferenheit to be exact. She could hear the water as it raced through the pipes in the ceiling of her cell, hear the flitter of the wings of fruit flies buzzing in the large dumpster behind the research facility that was their prison. The only home she had known. Ever.

" You're almost ready 723. You know that don't you? You feel the changes inside of you, you can hear better, see better than ever before. You can speak, you walk on two legs now, they've even been able to give you some human characteristics with my assistance; the longer hair on your head to give you some feminine qualities for instance. Can you feel the others? Can you feel their suffering here? Their pain? Isn't it all so very exquisite?" Ego asked her enthusiastically.

"Ego?" 723 asked softly, staring at the ceiling above her bunk.

"Yes?"

"Fuck you." She replied, extending her telekenesis outward, breaking the flourescent bulb in her cell and pitching them into darkness.

Ego laughed at her brashness, she had so much spunk to her! It was so clear now why the Kree and Terran scientists on Negamite Prime had begged for his involvement in her evolution. She was a breathtaking creation to behold; and a smidgeon of his DNA had been just what they needed. That and Meredith's singing voice, just so Ego could hear his sweet River Lily sing once more! It had been one of the only demands he had really made of the Scientists; free rein to give her a few extra abilities of his own.

"You can laugh all that you want you twisted Son of a bitch, because when i'm free and your DNA mutates me into that weapon you're all working so hard on; i'm going to kill all of you. I'll be the one laughing then," She said with a dark smile, her tail twitching in anticipation at the thought. She would kill Ego and all of the Scientists and then she would set all of the Subjects in the laboratory free; all 722 of them.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: This God-forsaken Place  
Chapter 2: This God-forsaken Place

"What do you mean you think he's gone?" 88 asked through the bars of the cell to the left of 723.

"I don't think that he's gone, I know he's gone. I don't feel him anymore; not his thoughts, not the vibration of his energy. Nothing." 723 corrected her neighbor, tracking the movement of a Spider as it built its web in the corner of her cell. She could hear the intracate movements of its spindly legs plucking the fine silk into place; the silks susseration a soothing background to 723's current migraine.

"I can't even imagine being that aware of any of these assholes." 88 snorted mirthlessly, shivering as another nervous tremor ripped through her limbs and nearly caused her to wobble off of her bunk.

"Steady there. According to the readings im getting over here, the damage to your Cerebellum is being exascerbated each time they punish you. You might want to stop the escape attempts for a while." 723 said with concern for her female otter friend.

"I wonder what the purpose is to making you a walking talking tricorder? Have they talked about project Mercury anymore in front of you?" 88 asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I'm suppose to serve the Terran and Kree ass-hats that are working with Ego. They've been downloading more medical subroutines into my cortical node; along with culinary capabilities and recipes. Then there's Ego uploading all types of musical mumbo-jumbo into it; makes me feel like a damned jukebox half the time. The Pop Music isn't half bad, but theres classical and operatic shit that makes me want to hack into the anti-grav units and blow the roof off of this crap hole." 723 replied, rolling her eyes with a sigh.

"What's a juke box?" 88 asked with a frown.

"A partially automated music-playing device, usually operated by Terran currency, that will play a selection of music from self-contained media. The feeling is not pleasant." 723 assimilated, stretching out on her bunk and being rewarded with the sound of several kinked bones popping.

"Sounds very painful..." 88 replied sadly.

"Just mentally exausting and irritating because its a fucking useless ability. Only an idiot like Ego would partially program a cybernetic creature with the ability to sing in his dead lovers voice because he misses her. Shes lucky shes dead; I can't imagine what she saw in from what I have gathered; Terrans are notorious for poor judgement and decision-making skills. I guess thats why they need me to be their nursemaid and culinary mid-wife; according to my Terran knowledge database though, allowing any form of animal into the kitchen or mess hall is highly frowned upon and considered unsanitary." 723 said, confused about the double standards involving her kind.

"Unsanitary? How could it be unsanitary? If it is unsanitary then why would they program you in such a way?" 88 wondered aloud. 723 shrugged, not wanting to delve too far into the Scientists motives for her unusual cocktail of DNA and program routines. She tried not to wonder too much as to what her purpose was or why she was needed for their 'special project' at all. She had seen her fair share of mammals go through mutation and cybernetic and genetic engineering only to be euthanized later; the project they were needed for scrapped and relegated to databases for later revisions. Perhaps they would eventually euthanize her too; or relinquish her to Ego's clutches where he would command her to sing pop song after pop song until her vocal cords were damaged and she required treatment and repair. Euthanization honestly looked like less grim of an outcome. 723 bunked down for the night, curling up in a fetal position for warmth as the guards called lights out along the rows of cells. The guards were not alone as they rounded the corner into their cell block though; Dr. Marsa Ambron trailing behind them with a data pad.

"Which ones are we pulling Doc?"

"88, 72, 41, 110, and 93. Take them down to laboratory A16." Dr. Ambron replied, turning to leave as 723 hurled herself out of her bunk.

"Why are you doing this? Why?" She cried, clutching the bars of her cell as her heartbeat accelerated. Dr. Ambron turned back towards her, palming a black remote in his hand and pressing one of its many buttons. 723 felt her muscles contract and her nerves sear with fire instantly, blinding her to her surroundings. The only feeling existing was the unbearable pain suddenly; but it didn't eclipse all of her talents. She could still hear the thoughts of Dr. Ambron and the guards that accompanied him. Her cell block mates were to be euthanized in Lab A16. They weren't needed anymore, if they had ever been needed at all. Words like obsolete, failed experimentation, and flawed genetic mutation flashed like fireworks in her cortical node as she twitched and writhed on the floor. Dr. Ambron released his hold on the button and pressed another, opening 723's cell. He made his way towards her with unfeeling emotionless eyes, plucking her from the ground by her laboratory issued military fatigues and bringing his face to hers, his cool Kreean voice hissing into her ear.

"Ego is gone little vermin, I know that you can sense the lack of his presence. The only reason these other bits of filth were kept alive so long was because we had to keep his Lordship Ego happy and keep him quiet. Now that hes gone, we can clean house a bit, yeah? Just be greatful that we need your little furry flea-bitten ass for right now; or you'd be executed along side your brethren."

723 reached out with the last bit of her telekenetic energy and latched onto the Kree scientists throat; causing his airway to constrict closed until he was panicking and gasping for air. 723 felt her teeth sink into his blue throat, ripping skin and arteries, tasting blood on her tongue and relishing in a hitherto dormant sense of battle. Then she was constricting in pain again, going momentarily airbourne and then there was the feeling of the hard, cold concrete beneath her once more. She heard the thoughts of the guards before she felt the tranquilizer dart thump into her side, clouding her vision with black.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Deconditioning The Spirit  
Chapter 3: Deconditioning the Spirit

Authors Note: I would like to say thank you to my Anon reviewer! You totally made my day and I had to get another chapter up for you! I am enjoying this fic just as much as all of you are, believe me. Rocket is literally my Spirit Animal! I too am such a small and angry sarcastic creature! LOL. So, the main pairings in this fic will be Rocket/723 (soon to be shortened to "Seven"), Peter Quill and Gamora, Drax and Mantis. There will be a lot of M rated sexual scenes as well as a lot of experimentation bordering on torture in regards to animals; I dont get any particular pleasure in writing the torture/experimentation scenes, but they are necessary to bring certain characters to life. We will learn about certain aspects of Ego's past relationship with Peter's Mum Meredith Quill, and how 723's DNA cocktail makes her genetically related to Peter (Ego shared his DNA with 723 to give her certain abilities, so genetically speaking he is very nearly her "Father"; meaning that 723 may as well be Peter Quill's Half Sister. I know this is all a little overwhelming, but I will mesh it together to weave the story to the best of my abilities. I love you all for giving me a chance and reading my work, it means the world to me!

723 became aware of her body instantly as she regained conciousness and the pain assaulted her all at once, causing her to cry out which was muffled by the oxygen mask attached to her face. She tried to assess her surroundings as best as she could; she was laying on her stomach, the implants in her back exposed, the mask on her face was forcing her to breathe even though she really didn't want to. She couldn't currently feel her hands; she tried to move her head to better see around the lab, but they had restrained her from head to toe apparently. She tried to reach out with her telepathy, but was unable to make sense of the garbled emotions and thoughts surrounding her, assailing her drug-addled reflexes and overloading her with an explosion of sound and color and too many voices. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; a vain attempt at centering her energy. Her telekenesis also failed her, the energy refusing to gather in her palms; like water escaping her fingers.

"Can you hear me?" A Terran male asked softly, coming into her line of sight; clipboard in hand. 723 blinked her eyes open painfully, inhaling a shaky breath and causing the oxygen mask to fog up temporarily.

"Just blink if you can hear me," The Terran said, moving a flashlight back and forth before her eyes to assess her cognition. 723 blinked and tried to focus on the Terrans face clearly. He was middle-aged and balding, stoutly built and palid in complexion. 723 thought he looked unhealthy as though he spent too much of his life indoors bent over microscopes and data pads and had never surfaced to see the sun.

"Good, good. Dr. Ambron is going to be returning soon, so I have to be brief for now. My name is Samson. Dr. Archibald Samson. I came here on a mission from Xandar, more specifically, from Nova Prime Rael of the Nova Corps. Rael sent me here to gather information, but your existence...complicates things. I've been reading your file, all of your capabilities are quite astounding; I do believe Rael will be very pleased with you thus far. Can you understand? You must keep this between us, the Kree don't know that i'm working with the Nova Corps." Dr. Samson assimilated quickly in hushed whispers, the smell of his aftershave and chewing gum making 723's nose twitch and tingle.

"I...I understand," She wheezed, her throat parched from lack of water. Dr. Samson seemed to understand her dilemma; offering her a straw from a large styrofoam cup. 723 gulped the water sloppily as she drank desperately, unsure of when she would get to have water again if Dr. Ambron was returning.

"I'm going to help you as much as I can 723. We never knew the weapons being built here were sentient cybernetically enhanced beings; Rael is going to be furious. The Kree have crossed the line this time I fear, this will lead to an all out conflict once more; worse than the one we suffered with Ronan." He said anxiously. 723 accessed her data files on Ronan, and was fed data and images from Xandars plight with Ronan the Accuser, Ronan and Thanos, and their struggle to control an infinity stone within an orb; a struggle for universal control of all planets and life forms.

"What kind of Surgery? I can't feel my hands..." she said wearily, unable to form a cohesive question for the Terran.

"More implants, these were placed to allow you to interface with a ships systems via touch alone. They would allow you to fully merge with any ship you were traveling on in order to take over from your Kree or Terran masters in case of fatigue or injury resulting in incapacitation. According to the conversations i've had with Dr. Ambron, this project that they are assigning you to is very dangerous; they aren't expecting many survivors. You are the key to the missions success; Dr. Ambron has already anticipated the death of at least eighty percent of the sypathizers on board." He explained hurriedly, bending low on a pretext of checking her restraints and the placement of her PIC lines.

"What...what kind of mission? What is it's objective?" She asked in confusion.

"The assassination of Nova Prime Rael and the complete annihilation of the Nova Corps. The Kree have converted dozens of Terran sympathizers via members of Ronan's cult, promising them thousands of Units a piece in exchange for their fealty. Dr. Ambron has been configuring you into a deadly weapon for this purpose alone. Ego called it project Mercury; though his plans were much more grandiose for you in the long term. This attack on Nova Prime Rael and the Nova Corps was just the beginning; just enough to keep the Kree empire and its sympathizers quiet and distracted. Ego's own plans of universal domination were much larger in magnitude than the Kreean scale." Dr. Samson explained quickly. 723's mind raced to store all of the information he was giving her while processing all of the plausible possibilities that he could be feeding her false information; this could very well be a test of her own loyalties.

"Why are you telling me all of this? Why would you want to help me at all?" She asked; trying to access her telepathic energies to read into his truthful intentions and failing once more.

"Xandar is in desperate need of your help. Nova Prime Rael and the Nova Corps have a great respect for all sentient life forms; this type of genetic and cybernetic engineering is unheard of on Xandar because it is unspeakably cruel. To create a sentient being, to give a concious voice to any being and then subject it to torture and experimentation is against everything we believe in on Xandar. I'm here not only to gather information; but also to free you from this facility and take you to Xandar. You would be allowed freedom there, Rael would grant you sentient humanoid status; no more laboratories, no more experimentation and research. You could take your place in society as a valued humanoid being with rights and liberties, just like any other being on Xandar." Dr. Samson said, frantically keeping an eye out for Dr. Ambron and the other scientists. 723 swallowed thickly and shifted her head; taking in the Terran Doctor's words with a grain of salt. All of this could be an elaborate lie. 88 had attempted escape many times during their long acquaintance, and in the end it had only earned her death along with several of their friends. Should she believe this Terran? Was there anyplace in the universe where she could be free?

"Where is Ego?" She asked, changing the subject abruptly and hoping to rattle the truth from the Terran in doing so.

"Ego is dead; killed by his half-Terran Son. His planet has been destroyed," Dr. Samson replied. To her shock, there was no lie in his eyes. But what was this about a half-Terran Son? Then 723's eyes widened as it all crashed down on her suddenly; Ego talking about his Terran lover Meredith, River Lily he had called her. The woman who sang all of the Terran music. The woman whose singing voice she had been specially programmed with. The times that Ego would make her sing melody after melody as he wept silently, staring into space as he mourned her loss. What had Ego told her once? He had given the scientists some of his DNA to create her with; this was what allowed her the ability to undergo all of these experiments and obtain all of these unique mutations without succumbing to her own limited mortality. Telekenesis, Telepathy, Tactohypnosis, the list went on and on; an ability or mutation appearing sporadically and unpredictably as her life went on in the research facility on Negamite Prime. For her to think for one moment that she was the only creature that Ego had had a hand in creating was preposterously narrow-minded of her! If this half-Terran male had survived killing Ego, suffice it to say that he indeed shared the God-like man's DNA just as she did; and if they shared the same DNA, they were half siblings...

Leave it to Ego to create such a preposterous link between his half-Terran son and a cybernetically engineered bi-pedal Pycion; a Vermin lower species from Terra itself. A door at the end of the lab slammed open; announcing the return of Dr. Ambron.

"Has the subject regained conciousness Dr. Samson?" he asked, palming the black remote once more from his pocket.

"Yes Dr. Ambron. Her vital signs are normal, organs functioning at normal levels as well; the surgery was a complete success so far as I can tell." The Terran scientist replied as 723 remained unnaturally still on the laboratory slab.

"Good. We can continue with deconditioning once more; i'm afraid that the Subjects prolonged time spent with that imbecile Ego has given 723 quite a high opinion of itself and we cannot allow the subject to continue in this way. If we are to have 723's complete submission to ensure the successful outcome of this Project, we must completely break her spirit first. I like to call it deconditioning; like so," Dr. Ambron explained, pressing a button on the remote once more. 723's human screams rent the air as Dr. Ambron sent wave after wave of electricity coursing through her body, watching in a detached sort of way as she writhed in agony on the table as much as her restraints would permit her to.

Dr. Samson watched the torture unfold before him, barely able to keep from running from the room and wretching up the contents of his lunch. He had to get 723 out of there soon...

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Deconditioning Successful  
Chapter 4: Sucessfully Broken

When 723 awoke again, she was in her cell on the concrete floor. She tried to sit up, but weakness overtook her and she slammed back down painfully onto her back; her implants making a soft metal clinking sound against the floor. She tried to gather energy to focus her telepathy; nothing. Her cell was completely dark, but her nightvision had thankfully remained. Her bunk was gone, the data pads that Ego had given her were also missing. 723 inhaled slowly, taking in the scents of the research facility in order to analize her surroundings. The scent of other animals was faint and stale; meaning that she was indeed alone in her cell block, this confirmed that her friends were dead. She could no longer hear the buzzing of the fruit flies in the dumpster (they must have sealed the windows completely to deter any thoughts of escape), she could still smell traces of Terrans and Kree around her; which meant that the guards were still patroling the research facility. She rolled over onto her stomach and made it to her knees with effort, but she didn't have the strength to stand. A tray of food and water rations was pushed into her cell from somewhere beyond the darkness and she wondered if she would be able to reach it at all without blacking out from the effort.

"Are you feeling a little different now, Rodent?" Dr. Ambron's voice came from out of the darkness and something about the sound made her blood run cold in her veins. She didn't answer him, nor did she turn towards what she thought may have been his approximate location in the dark. She made to stand on her feet, but fell once more to her knees as a searing pain ran through her body.

"Crawl to the tray. Don't stand; the only time you should use your bi-pedal abilities for now is when you are ordered to. I am going to train you to follow orders to the letter if its the last thing that I do. Can you follow orders Rodent? Or did that Moron Ego make you think you were special? Because you aren't special 723. You exist because we created you; and we created you to serve us in any capacity that we see fit. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Dr. Ambron asked, entering her cell and standing between her and the tray of rations. 723 did not meet his gaze; instead she studied her reflection in his shined military issue boots. 723 had never felt "special" as he had put it; she had felt doomed her entire existence to be the play thing of the sadistic scientists at the research facility. She had known all along that she would live to be used, experimented on, tortured, and eventually killed at their hands, just as all of the 722 mammals before her were. Dr. Ambrons patience snapped when she didn't respond and he viciously kicked her in the ribs, causing her to cry out and curl away from him in pain.

"I asked you a question Bitch!" He shouted, grabbing her by the scruff and lifting her into the air, holding her away from his face and body (he had apparently learned better from the last time he grabbed her like this not to hold her too closely unless he wanted to be at the mercy of her teeth and claws). 723 wanted so badly to spit in his disgusting blue fucking face. She wanted to rip into his flesh to taste his blood again, she wanted to hear him scream in pain for a change; but she froze at once when he pulled the black remote from the pocket of his lab coat. Dr. Ambron felt her stiffen in his grip when she saw the torture device and he smiled.

"Ah...so you can be taught. Good move girlie. Now, lets try this again. You will follow orders; Do I make myself perfectly fucking clear?" He asked through gritted teeth.

" Yes." She rasped, swallowing painfully as her dry throat contracted with the movement. Dr. Ambron dropped her unceremoniously to the floor at his feet and pressed a button on the remote again; causing her nerve endings to burn simultainiously once more. 723 clutched her head in her hands as she writhed at his feet, not realizing that the terrible screeching noises she heard were her own until he let go of the button and blood oozed from her nose and mouth and her throat was pure fire from the exersion of screaming after not drinking water for over 24 hours.

"Thats Yes Sir , 723. Say it!" He growled, brandishing the remote in front of her face once more.

"Yes...Sir..." She gasped, any will to fight him gone out of her as her vision darkened around the edges. All she knew was pain, and it consumed everything she was, and everything she felt. Perhaps she had mutated into Pain and she had become it as it swallowed her whole.

"Clean her up Dr. Samson. We've got another battery of testing for her in the morning," Dr. Ambron ordered, walking out of the cell and down the corridor. Dr. Samson nodded as nonchalantly as he could until Dr. Ambron was out of sight, then he ran to 723's side and knelt down, pulling a tricorder from his lab coat and taking her vital signs. Her heart beat was strong, but her blood pressure was erratic as it rose critically due to the pain she was in. Dr. Samson pulled a hypospray from his med kit and administered a moderate dose of opioid anesthetic as well as a small dose of hydrochlorothyazide to stabilize her blood pressure. He moved her carefully to a stretcher and rolled her into an empty laboratory, hooking her up to a heart monitor and inserting a new PIC line into her arm so he could administer fluids to treat her dehydration and prevent her organs from cascade failure.

"Just hang on for me Seven, okay?" Dr. Samson asked her softly, watching as her pressure stabilized on the monitor and her pulse dropped to normal again.

"Why are you helping me? Just let me die..." She gasped, her head tossing uncomfortably in her restlessness.

"I'm not going to let you die, Seven. I told you, i'm going to get you out of here. Just give me some time to set up a rendezvous with Nova Corps and we'll both be free of this place." Dr. Samson told her, pulling a blanket over her body and offering her a cup of water once more; helping her sit up to drink it.

"Why are you calling me Seven?" She asked curiously, unused to the single-digit designation.

"I don't want to really. I wish that you had a name." He said solemnly.

"A name? A word or set of words by which a person, animal, place, or thing is known, addressed, or referred to by. Dr. Ambron stated long ago, before I was surgically altered, that names were only given to sentient beings that were created outside of the research facility. I do not have a name, it's forbidden to give me one." 723 illiterated, not comprehending the sadness in Dr. Samsons face as he listened to her.

"Well, if you can't have a name because i'm forbidden to give you one; at least let me abbreviate your designation number to Seven. Saying 723 is a bit of a mouthful," He said light-heartedly. 723 paused and frowned as she laid back against her medical cot, none of the other scientists ever cared about giving her or any of the other Subjects any names or abbrieviated designations.

"I have no say in what you decide to designate me as; you are a Terran and I am your experiment. You will address me however you wish to." 723 said logically, laying back sleepily as the anesthetic kicked in.

"But if I gave you the authorization to choose a name, what would it be?" He asked her hopefully.

"I do not have a preference. The abbrieviation "Seven" sounds logical, as you previously stated, it is approximately .375 seconds faster to say aloud than my previous designation." She replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Okay; Seven it is then." Dr. Samson said as she succumbed to sleep once more.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5: First Report  
Chapter 5: First Report

"The Weapon is a Sentient cybernetic lifeform you say?" Irani Rael asked, unsure if their secure channel was deceiving her hearing. Dr. Archibald Samson nodded anxiously at the tiny view screen, uploading an encrypted picture of Subject 723 along with an encrypted copy of her complete file and sending it to her.

"She has amazing abilities Rael! I need to get her away from here as soon as possible; every single time she's tortured by Dr. Ambron, I think it might be her last, but she's incredibly resiliant. According to my DNA analysis and blood culture results she is half Celestial, half Procyon; but that DNA cocktail is only the half of it. Biologically speaking; the recently deceased Celestial Ego was her "Father", I ran the DNA four times to be sure my Tricorder wasn't completely malfunctioning." Dr. Samson reported, having matched Guardian Peter Quill's DNA that the Nova Corps had on file after Quill's defeat of Ronan and subsequent capture of the Infinity Stone with his bare hands.

"Yes... I'm reading over your findings. My God! Ego was intimately involved with a Procyon Lotor from Terra?" Nova Prime Rael gasped, disgusted.

"No, thank goodness. When you have the time to view Dr. Ambron's extensive video documentaries about 723, you will see exactly how they created her using DNA that Ego gave them from his own unique cellular structure. She has been genetically and cybernetically altered so much so that the only remnants of her relation to her Procyon Lotor ancesters that remains is some of her appearance. Her body structure is quite similar to that of Subject 89P13-

"Guardian Rocket, Dr. Samson. It's an insult to call him by his designation from Half World; I am correcting you becaused he takes great offense to being addressed as such. You will no doubt be meeting him soon enough when you bring 723 to Xandar and he will exibit hostile behavior if he hears his former designation from the mouth of a Terran scientist." Irani Rael corrected him sternly.

"Yes ofcourse, I apologize for my blunder. I'm afraid I never was very good at diplomacy and first contact situations; hence the decision to become a scientist." he apologized sheepishly.

"Has 723 chosen a name? I recall from reading Guardian Rocket's extensive criminal record that he had chosen the name Rocket for himself well before escaping the research facility on Half World." She asked curiously.

"No, I have asked her if she wanted to have a name of her own choosing but she refused. We mutually have decided to call her "Seven" for the time being; she seems to like it when I address her as such, so I suppose that is to be her name." Dr. Samson replied, shrugging as though at a loss for other more amiable solutions. Nova Prime Rael nodded, several ideas for rescue missions coming to mind; but only one being the most logical.

"You will remain on Negamite Prime for the time being, I will contact Guardian Quill and arrange a rescue operation. It is imperitive that Seven be kept alive and as well treated as you can manage while not blowing your cover to and the other Scientific Swine working at that hell hole research facility. Am I clear?" Nova Prime Rael asked imperiously.

"Ofcourse Nova Prime, I will do everything in my power to ensure her safety and above all, her survival. I have grown rather fond of the poor young woman in our short acquaintance here." Dr. Samson confessed.

"I will contact you shortly as soon as The Guardians and I have a plan arranged. Nova Prime Rael Out."

"Quill, we cannot put an expansion of living quarters this close to the flarging engine room! I'm telling you, the temperature is gonna influx way too high that close to the warp core, not to mention that whoever is staying in that room if we experience a core breach is gonna be the first to fry. I volunteer you as tribute; when can I help you move your shit?" Rocket sneered, wanting to pummel Quill for his stupidity sometimes.

"Why are you acting like such an asshole?" Peter asked, snatching the Milano's blue prints from him and studying the schematics again, trying to decipher Rocket's scribbled notations.

"Call it a hobby. Anyways, I told you before that this hunk o' junk needs a complete overhaul! I don't even know how the hell it hasn't been shredded to smithereens whenever we breech warp 5; the anti-grav, the propulsionary units, the thrusters, why can't we just buy a new ship? Hell, I bet we could even convince Nova Corp to cough up the units for a decent streamlined Constellation Class Warbird. Eh?" Rocket reasoned, gesturing with his hands at their surroundings in the outdated and cramped Kitchen/Dining/Meeting room.

"The Milano isn't going anywhere! She's a good ship, she just needs a few updates and repairs here and there. After the expansion, she'll be good as new and you'll be eating your words Rocket." Peter said, refusing to even consider scrapping his ship for a newer model.

"How will Rocket eat his words? How is that even possible?" Drax interrupted, confusion etching his face. Rocket shook his head, face in his hands in reaction to Drax's question.

"I am Groot." The tiny Tree boy chirped, barely able to speak through a warbled chuckle.

"He is an idiot." Rocket agreed, dropping his data spanner onto the table top in a gesture of defeat.

"I am not an idiot!" Drax huffed, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Okay, okay. Can everyone just focus on the Schematics please?" Peter asked, placing them back onto the tabletop.

"I agree with Rocket." Gamora said, speaking for the first time since Peter and Rocket had begun bickering an hour ago over coffee.

"Geeze Gam, thats kinda insensitive. I thought that you and our metaphorically challenged friend here had put aside your past differences." Peter said, frowning.

"I agree with him in regards to the Milano." Gamora clarified dryly, rolling her eyes and gracing him with a small smile that he was almost postive held back laughter.

"What?! But, I thought you loved the Milano?" Quill asked, his face a mixture of disbelief and stung pride.

"Peter, it's a ship. You speak of it as if it were a person." Gamora replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, it's a ship thats friggin fallin apart. We need to pick a better name for the new one too; where the flargin hell did you come up with the name Milano anyhow?" Rocket laughed, giving Groot a high five as the little tree snorted in agreement with him.

"We aren't getting a new ship! And there's nothing wrong with the name Milano." Peter defended, avoiding everyones eyes as he refilled his coffee mug.

"Why did you name your ship that Peter?" Gamora asked curiously, wondering why it had never come up in conversation before now.

"No particular reason," Quill shrugged noncommitally, clearing his throat. Gamora narrowed her eyes at him as she studied his profile; noting his fidgetting stance and downcast gaze.

"Your're avoiding the question...why?" She asked, rising from her seat at the table and coming to stand before him.

"Do we have to talk about this now?Who cares?! I mean, this ship doesn't mean anything to anyone but me anyways, right?" Peter said, turning away from them all to snatch a donut from the crowded counter top.

"Yeah, I do think we need to talk about it now. What's the big secret? I think we all got the right to know since we're a team and we're apparently stuck flying this metal death trap since you refuse to scrap it and get a new one. So dish, Quill. Whats with the name?" Rocket demanded, gesturing for Peter to fill them all in. Peter turned to see everyone looking at him with a mix of curiosity and expectation. He sighed, stalling for time; he could lie to them all and make up some really cool story. Or he could go balls out and embarrass the shit out of himself in front of his friends and a girl that he had a lot of confused feelings for. Well, honesty was better among friends wasn't it?

"Its named after an actress that I had a crush on when I was a kid back on Terra. Her name was Alyssa Milano." He confessed, his eyes squeezed shut as he waited for an explosion of laughter. Rocket did not disappoint him; erupting in loud and nearly choking guffaws followed by Groots shrill giggles.

"Why did you want to crush her? Was she incredibly unattractive? Why would you name your ship after her if she was hideous?" Drax asked over the ruckus that Rocket and Groot were making. Gamora folded her arms and rolled her eyes, taking her leave of the Kitchen/Dining room/meeting room, not meeting Peter's gaze as she left.

"That's not what having a crush on a girl means! God, I wish you would just google a few phrases from time to time! Having a crush means that you're sexually attracted to someone. Ugh..." Peter huffed, pouring his coffee down the drain and tossing his cup in the sink.

"What the flarg?! Can you friggin imagine it? Oh no Boys! The Alyssa Milano is coming for us! Whatever shall we do?!" Rocket snorted, showing a picture of the Terran Actress he had looked up on his Data Pad to Drax and Groot. Drax burst into raucously booming laughter as Rocket wiped actual tears from his eyes. Peter made a dive to catch Groot as he rolled off the table in shrill chortles, holding his stomach and leaking sap from his eyes.

"You guys are the worst friends that ever existed..." Quill grumbled, setting Groot back on the tables surface and striding over to the door to leave.

"Ah common, Quill. You know I like givin you a hard time! Geeze! Why are you so sensitive sometimes?" Rocket said, composing himself and attempting to at least look a tiny bit petulant. Peter Quill shrugged and sighed, taking his leather jacket from the back of a chair.

"I'll be in the Cockpit if anybody needs a good laugh, okay?" He asked irritably, freezing in place as an alarm went off, notifying them that they were receiving an urgent transmission from Xandar on a secured channel.

"Well looks like ship expansion will have to wait." Rocket said, lifting Groot to sit on his shoulder as he followed Peter and Drax to the Cockpit to receive the urgent communication.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: We need a Plan  
Chapter 6: We need a Plan

"Guardians, I have an urgently important mission for you all, top priority Alpha." Nova Prime Rael said, her tone lacking its usual idioms of diplomacy.

Peter Quill took his customary seat at the Piloting Helm, joined by Rocket at his side at the Defense Console, and Gamora and Drax bringing up the rear.

"What's happened Nova Prime?" He asked tensely, his usual casual humor absent at the stressed lines of the Xandarian Matrons face.

Irani Rael sighed, where to begin?

"I have some very personal news for you, Guardian Quill. You may want to take the first portion of this communique alone," She warned the young male Terran. Peter frowned in confusion and shook his head.

"My Team is like my Family, I don't have any secrets I need to hide from them Nova Prime," He replied, gesturing for the Xandarian leader to continue.

"Very well. I gathered from your extensive reports regarding your deceased Father Ego and the incident on his Celestial Planet, that you are aware that your Father was quite interested in Universal Expansion of himself onto other planets both in the Alpha and Delta quadrants as well as other realms that I am sure we are not even aware of. You are aware that he had planted pods on different planets and fathered several thousand children across the Galaxies only to kill them when they didn't inherit his Celestial genes in a way that was congenial to his plans. The Nova Corps has recently received intelligence from an undercover agent that the Kreean cult that had been loyal to Ronan had not disbanded upon his death; has been active underground and recruiting support from rogue Terran and Badoon supporters. My undercover agent had received word that a weapon was being created on a planet in the Gamma Quadrant called Negamite Prime; a planet whose sole focus was supposed to be dedicated to scientific research on agriculture and botany, well I can tell you now Mr. Quill that they are growing much more than plants there. Prior to his demise, your Father had become involved with the research facility on Negamite Prime; he had agreed to assist them in creating the weapon they needed in exchange for carte blanc ownership of the weapon once Ronan's fanatics had used it to assassinate me and destroy Xandar in revenge for their former leaders death on our soil and at our Guardians hands." Nova Prime relayed, taking a breath and a sip of water to compose her nerves.

"So we go after these Kree fanatics on Negamite Prime and retrieve the weapon and destroy it, easy-peasy." Peter interrupted with a shrug, his normal bravado back in place at the mention of danger and adventure.

"Mr. Quill, the weapon is not a gun or a bomb or any kind of inanimate object that can simply be ripped asunder and destroyed. The weapon is a young cybernetically and genetically altered bi-pedal Procyon woman with your late Fathers DNA running through her veins. What I am saying Mr. Quill; is that I need you to rescue your half-sister from Negamite Prime before they complete her mutations and bring her here to kill us all. I am transmitting her file to you now, there isn't any time to waste-

"Did you say bi-pedal Procyon? As in like me?" Rocket interrupted Nova Prime Rael, his mind reeling.

"Indeed I did. According to my undercover source; she is nearly identical to your anatomy and physiology; with the acceptance of Ego's DNA mutating and giving her telekinetic, tactohypnotic, and possible telepathic abilities." She replied; noting the shock on Rocket's and Quill's faces.

"I have a Sister..." Peter said, more to himself than anyone else in the cockpit.

"Yes, Mr. Quill, and its imperative for her safety as well as our own that you rescue her as soon as possible. I am transmitting Negamite Primes coordinates now as well as its geological info and the approximate location of the research facility that Seven is being held in. I must stress that she may well be a bit psychologically unwell and very distrusting of most humanoid beings in general, which is why Guardian Rocket's presence will be so very crucial to your rescue mission." Nova Prime explained.

"Seven? That's her name? My Dad didn't...

"Ego did not name Seven. Your half-sister had been assigned the numerical designation 723 because she was the facilities seven hundred and twenty-third attempt at creating this weapon successfully; according to my agent the other animals in the facility had been euthanized because Ego's DNA was not mutating with theirs harmoniously enough and was actually causing painful cascade failures in their cerebellums and nearly liquifying other various organs. To some small consolation Guardian Rocket; she was the only Procyon Lotor in the facility." Irani Rael intimated somberly.

"You said that shes mistrusting of humanoids, why is that?" Peter asked, a sinking suspicion creeping into his gut that he was not going to like the answer. Nova Prime Rael swallowed reflexively and inhaled deeply, trying to maintain composure and professionalism, but knowing that what she was about to tell Quill was not pleasant in the least.

"Because those Kreean and Terran bastards are torturing her, right? Lemme guess; electroshock devices, emersion tanks, withholding food and water, am I close here, Rael?" Rocket interrupted with an undertone of bitterness, a haunted expression clouding his eyes as memories of his own time in labs at the mercy of Terran hands surfaced painfully in his mind.

"What?" Peter and Gamora gasped in unison, both of their gazes drawn to their smaller friend in a mixture of shock and outrage.

"I'm afraid that Guardian Rocket is correct in his assumptions. My Agent has been treating her injuries from what Kreean Scientists have been calling her 'Deconditioning' sessions, as well as ensuring that she receives food and water when the scientists withhold it from her as part of her punishment. My agent states that they are trying to break her spirit as much as possible so that they can use her fear of torture and lack of food and water as motivation to follow orders without question. We have obtained a video documentary that Kree Scientist Marsa Ambron has created involving the creation and subsequent 'life' for lack of a better term of Seven. The footage is some of the most graphic and despicable of its kind that I have ever had the misfortune of viewing in my entire life; bar none. I have included it in the file I have sent you, but I do not recommend that you view it at this time, if ever. Mr. Quill, all I can say is that Seven has only known pain, torture, cybernetic and genetic surgical alteration with minimal anesthesia, and forced experimentation her entire life; she has every right to absolutely loathe you and every other humanoid she ever meets with all of her being." Nova Prime Rael said in a cautionary tone, trying to mentally prepare Quill for meeting with a sibling that may wish to harm or even kill him on sight.

"I understand, but I want your permission to do one thing." Peter replied, blinking the moisture from his eyes as Seven's mugshot-like photo popped up on his small console screen as her file uploaded. She was sleek in stature, much like Rocket was himself; with piercing golden-hazel colored eyes and thick wavy black and grey hair that cascaded down to her waist swept over one shoulder. Peter had to look away from Seven's photo quickly; that sonovabitch Ego had somehow genetically altered her to have his Mother's eyes and it hurt to look at them for too long.

"What is that, Mr. Quill?" Irani Rael asked.

"I want your permission to kill the bastards that have been keeping her prison and torturing her, I mean how long has this been going on? How old is she? When did your agent get there to finally help her?" Peter's demand and his question ran together until he was red in the face and nearly out of breath.

"Steady Mr. Quill. I cannot imagine how difficult all of this is for you to process. Seven is four Terran years old, which would make her close to her early twenties in Procyon anatomy and physiology; this is the age she will remain as Ego had created her specifically to be that age, no older and no younger, to fit his needs and purposes. She has been held at the research facility since her creation four years ago, and unfortunately, we only received intelligence regarding her existence two weeks ago. My agent has been with her for a week, caring for her to the very best of his ability without blowing his cover to the other Scientists there; you must understand that if he were to be exposed, it would put both himself and Seven in terrible danger. We must proceed with extreme caution with this rescue operation as there are many lives at stake here; including all of your own." She said reasonably, her eyes sympathetic to Quill's emotional outburst.

"We understand all of the complex risks of this mission, Nova Prime. Give us one hour for a strategy meeting and we shall contact you then for your approval, is this amicable?" Gamora asked, speaking in Peter's place as a leader to give him a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Yes, that would be best Guardian Gamora. Nova Prime Out."

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: She's Just Like Me  
Chapter 7: Ain't No Thing Like Me Except Me; And Now…. Her

"Okay, everybody to the meeting room please. Rocket, can you draw up a rough preliminary geographical map of this shit hole planet?" Peter asked over his shoulder, taking a stack of Data Pads with him as he made to exit the cockpit. He hesitated though as he caught sight of the look on his friend's face; which was a mixture of surprise and sadness and anger all in one. Peter realized belatedly that Seven's existence would not only affect himself, it would make a dramatic change to Rocket's life as well. Peter knew that Rocket had gone along his entire existence thinking that he was completely alone in the universe, the only genetically and cybernetically enhanced bi-pedal Procyon to ever exist. On some levels Rocket could convince people that he had felt a sense of pride and contentment being on his own, but when he would get down to his cups with Peter and Groot, he would often tell a different story; the liquor would loosen his tongue and allow him to drop his guard and spill his guts. He had alliterated some of his origins to Peter and Groot as well as make a few confessions that had surprised them both (at least Peter had assumed they surprised Groot. The upward inflection of his tone when he said 'I am Groot' being the only indication Peter had had at the time as a confirmation to this emotion).

"Ah, you're lucky ya found Gamora, you know? This piss poor universe can get lonely after a few decades on your own. You know, sometimes we pull a good gig or arrest some creep for a shitload of units or in my case, I build a fuckin class A top of the line Gun or bomb or I make a near impossible repair to this rust bucket ya call a ship and I wanna talk about it to somebody, ya know? I just wanna unwind and talk about my day or vent when you piss me off with some Terran fuck face remark or when Drax gets on my last fuggin nerve with his stupid shit and I turn around and I'm by myself, Ya know?" Rocket had slurred, all the snarky crabby little bastard knocked out of him by the booze and nothing but honesty standing in its wake. Peter swayed far to the left in his chair suddenly, grabbing onto the table in front of him for balance as he studied Rocket through their mutual drunken haze and hiccupping as he cracked open a new bottle in his poor judgement, knowing that many more shots of whatever the hell kind of grog that Rocket had smuggled off Contraxia was going to give them a shit-fuck of a hangover come dawn.

"Are you saying that your lonely Rocky?" Quill asked, calling him by a nickname that Rocket only ever allowed when they were completely shitfaced.

"Um not fuggin lonely, Quill. How the hell could I be when you Mutherflargers never give me a moments peace? Rocket build me a better gun, Rocket the thrusters are dragging too far to the left again, Rocket do some research on these planetary shields we're gonna have to breach, Rocket hack into the systems main drive so they don't recognize our ships signature, blah, blah, blah. Lonely my furry fuggin ass!" The Procyon had said in a booze enhanced rant, causing him to slam his shot glass down and give Peter a glazed glare.

"Rocket…...I meant like, you know, for companionship. You want to spend time with someone that you love, somebody that would add more meaning to your life. And by the way, I don't want you to think that I don't really value all your assistance on missions because we'd be lost without all your expertise," Peter said with feeling; not wanting Rocket to get the idea that Peter and the rest of the team were just using him, because that was not the case at all.

"Ah, yeah I know Quill. No hard feelings an' all that shit. I guess I would like some companionship sometimes, but who in the hell is gonna want to spend time with me and listen to all my shit and put up with all my crap? I mean, I Ain't the easiest asshole to live with; you of all people should know that." Rocket slurred, laying back against one of their mismatched chairs and studying the constellations as they zoomed by the windows of the Milano at warp speed, the colors blending together in his booze induced stupor.

"My Mom used to say that there was someone for everyone; that there was never going to be anyone left alone in the universe…." Peter had said softly, the memory of her beautiful face and kind eyes coming to his mind effortlessly. Meredith Quill had always had a dreamy and innocent quality to her in Peters eyes, she had never been unkind to anyone that Peter could ever recall; a rare quality to find anywhere in anyone.

"Yeah, but your Ma never met me. I dunno, maybe it's better that I stay on my own. Who the fuck would want me anyway?" Rocket had mused quietly. Peter had put an arm around Rocket's small shoulders then, risking life and limb by comforting his friend in such a way, but figuring that it was worth it to make him feel better. To Peter's surprise Rocket had stiffened slightly for only a moment before relaxing onto the Terrans arm as they watched the stars zoom by in silence; just two pals and a tree man enjoying a few drinks, hopeful for the future.

Now a couple of years after that conversation, all their assumptions that Rocket would remain the only one of his kind had been tossed out of an airlock. All of Peters assumptions that his entire family was deceased had also been blown away with the newfound knowledge that Seven existed. Peter didn't care that she had been born a Raccoon, he didn't care that she had been genetically engineered with his Father's DNA; blood was blood. One look at Seven's photo had hit him in the gut with a force of emotion he hadn't thought possible since his Mothers death back on Terra. The fact that Ego had given the young Procyon his Mothers eyes, the fact that he could clearly see the pain, misery, and fear in her gaze as some unfeeling scientist prick had snapped that mugshot for her file; all of it gave Peter an intense instinct to protect her. Rocket read the emotions flitting across his Terran friends face and shook his head to clear his mind from his own tide of whirling thoughts and emotions; he had to get his shit together. Rocket knew instinctually that this mission was only the beginning of a long road ahead of them; because if they managed to rescue Seven alive the real work of rehabilitating her mentally and physically was going to be taxing for them all.

"Listen Quill, I know that this girl is your Half-sister and all and I know that you wanna take the lead on this mission," Rocket began, uncertain how to phrase what he was going to say without insulting Peter; but he knew that if they didn't play this his way, it was bound to be disastrous.

"But?" Peter prompted impatiently, wanting to get started on creating a plan asap because he could only imagine the torture Seven was enduring while they were all sitting here twiddling their dicks over blueprints and maps (all except Gamora, who didn't have said appendage to twiddle and would probably have frowned upon such a pastime if she did.)

"I think that we need to work cohesively as a team until we breach the Laboratory that she's being held in; then you guys need to watch my back while I do the actual rescuing, or this is never going to work." Rocket said, attaching a scope to his modified telescoping blaster.

"Absolutely not! That's way too dangerous for one, and for another why do you think that we can't perform this mission just as good if not better as a team than you can on your own?" Peter interjected vehemently; he'd be damned if he trusted the safety of his little sister's rescue mission solely to Rocket. He had no doubts in the Procyon male's capability when it came to fighting strategies and battle tactics and seat of the pants solutions when it came to improvising on the fly; but was Rocket careful enough to be trusted with something this delicate alone? What if he was ambushed by guards? What if Seven was already gravely injured by the time they arrived, and her condition was just too delicate for Rocket's inexperience? Rocket sighed and put his head in his hands for a moment and Groot stretched a tiny vine out to caress the Raccoons head as a sad expression affixed itself to Groot's tiny face.

"I am Groot?" The tiny Flora Colossus asked Rocket gently, as though encouraging him to open up to his friends.

"Rocket, what is it that you aren't telling us?" Peter asked in a softer tone, exchanging looks with Drax and Gamora as though prompting them to encourage Rocket to fess up as well.

"Look Quill, I know that I ain't been real giving with information about a lot of my past. Lemme just start by telling you guys that Seven and I have endured similar treatment at the hands of humanoid scientists, in fact I'm sure that the treatment we've both received is nearly identical. I was trapped in a laboratory on half world for a handful of years; I was experimented on, obviously surgically altered, put through batteries of tests, ya name it, they did it, I lived to talk about it. Not all the Terrans were bad though, Ya know? I mean, a few of them were nice to me sometimes. They'd bring me treats like pastries and soda and chips and junk food; some of 'em gave me books to read, extra blankets when it was cold in the labs…. the point is, by the time I was ready to escape with a few of my fellow experiments, we saw all Terrans the same; they were just blockades to our freedom that had to be eliminated. There were ten of us that had been pilfering different materials from our respective laboratories to build rudimentary guns and bombs to use to ensure nobody stood in our way; and on the day that I was able to hack into their main transport grid, we made sure that none of our Terran keepers were left alive to stop us…. not even the ones that were nice." Rocket swallowed reflexively, unable to meet anyone's eyes at that moment; especially Peters as he confessed the most horrid crime he had ever committed.

"Rocket, you can't seriously blame yourself for wanting to get away from the people who were torturing you at any cost? I mean, for fucks sake I've seen the damn implants embedded into your back when we were being detained at The Kyln! I know that they weren't wished in place by fairies riding fuckin Unicorns; I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through…. What Seven is going through." Peter said in a constricted voice, his face devoid of its usual carefree humorous tone at the thought of Rocket's traumatic experiences and the fear that Seven's were the same if not worse.

"The reason that I'm bringin this shit up is because I know that whatever your Sister is like physically is going to look like a picnic compared to what she will be like mentally. If we're able to get to her in time and rescue her alive, that's just gonna be the beginning for her recovery. I'm also trying to point out the fact that she will be dangerous and mistrusting, that part Nova Prime Rael had correct; and if she's anything like me at all, then we know that she's too fuckin resourceful for her own good and that should scare the shit outta all of ya." Rocket warned, drawing up the map of Negamite Prime that Peter had asked for in seconds and transferring copies to each of their Data Pads.

"So, what's your idea Rocket? What is the best way to handle this rescue mission?" Gamora asked, leaning forward in her chair in anticipation. Gamora always relished a good old-fashioned battle, especially when the odds were stacked against them.

"Okay, I went over the rudimentary info that Nova Prime sent over while her and Quill were yakkin away and the planet itself is pretty dead. We're talkin nothing besides this huge research facility spanning over three hundred acres; most of it looks like its dedicated to these plants and garbage, just like she said." Rocket zoomed in on several cameras displaying real time video footage of Scientists stooping over microscopes to study samples they had taken from small leafy bushes on their tables, several scientists working in greenhouses, and footage that showed a few Kreean and Terran guards patrolling the perimeter of the large facility.

"You hacked into their video feed already?!" Quill asked, half shocked and half envious at Rockets capabilities.

"Always the tone of surprise, Quill. Have I ever let ya down before?" Rocket asked, not without a little pride in his voice as Drax patted him on the shoulder in praise for his expedient work.

"You are the best technical strategist in battle that one could ever hope for," Drax complimented gruffly.

"Ah geeze buddy, I'm blushing. Any who, there's the standard Kreean planetary shield matrix to disable, which I can do easily once we're within about 10 kilometers of the planet. I've also been working on a device that I've attached to the hull of the Milano which would disguise the ship at will to the naked eye and fool their sensors temporarily which will give us enough time to slip by them mostly undetected and land." Rocket said, showing them all a small device the size of a standard transport crate that was attached to the underside of the Milano's hull.

"Dude, when the Hell did you even attach that? I thought that we agreed that ship modifications were to be discussed and mutually agreed upon by the team prior to their installation?" Quill asked, quirking an eyebrow at Rocket sternly.

"Look Quill, this was a spur of the moment, just in case feature that I've been testing out and tinkering with for a while now. I haven't been able to sleep too soundly for the past few nights and I was just testing out the prototype…. must've left it attached by mistake and it just crossed my mind now with all this rescue schtick we're discussing." Rocket said nonchalantly as he brought up rudimentary blueprints of the research facility that Nova Prime Rael had supplied them with.

"Sure…." Peter said in a placating tone, causing Gamora to chuckle softly and Drax to frown.

"I am Groot!" Groot chirped with a frown, looking at Peter.

"Yeah, he will like it if it works to get us passed Kreean security scans," Rocket replied lightly, zooming in on the approximate location of Sevens cell.

"According to Nova Primes Agent, there are large pipes used for hydroelectrical power leading into the facility at these five points here. I can hack into their power grid and cause a malfunction in their power matrix by overheating the turbines that pump water down into the pipes. That should give us an hour at best before they can get the turbines back online if we intend to leave the way we came in, or we can blast 'em a new one on the way out if we have to in a pinch; I got loads of artillery stored in the cargo bays just waiting for us to play with." Rocket told them gleefully, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"That's a pretty airtight plan actually," Gamora complimented, impressed by Rockets ingenuity as usual.

"But you want to be the one who actually goes in to Sevens cell block to rescue her, right?" Peter asked, wincing inwardly as he said it.

"Yes. I will enter here via this pipe, crawl up this way over the larger lab here via the air vents and drop down into the cell block here. Nova Primes Agent has provided us with his clearance and access codes to get Seven out of her cell; I've already memorized all of them, and I suggest that you all do the same just in case. Now, there are all kinds of kinks that we could need to work out as we go, might need to wing it and get our hands dirty; so constant communication on the comm watches is crucial to our plan. When we land, I'm going to try to contact the Agent and see where Seven is in the facility; best possible case scenario that we could have is that she's in her cell and this goes off without a hitch. Worst case scenario is that she's being operated on when we get there or…. something else unpleasant is occurring, in which case we'll really be wingin it balls out and we'll all need to get a bit creative. If she is in her cell, I'm going to try to take her out via the pipe here that is the shortest and leads out past Greenhouse 37 and into the woods surrounding the facility, and it might be slow going if I have to incapacitate her first." Rocket explained, highlighting the various areas he had been talking about.

"Incapacitate her? Why?" Quill asked, confusion etching his face. What the hell was Rocket talking about here? Would Seven be hostile even towards him, a fellow bi-pedal Procyon? Wouldn't it be easier for the Agent to alert Seven of the rescue ahead of time?

"I might need to incapacitate her if she doesn't cooperate with the rescue ya d'ast fool. Seven has been conditioned with fear and torture to obey orders to the letter. I don't think those orders included escape, and according to my past experiences in similar situations, anyone who tries to escape is killed and the death doesn't always come mercifully either! Which is why this mission is so delicate; if we get captured trying to rescue her, the scientists will write her off as a failed experiment and kill her on the spot. I hate to put it this way guys, but we got one shot here and failure is not an option." Rocket told them grimly, letting his plan and cautionary words sink in as he transferred all of his data to each of their devices.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Better Made Plans  
First and foremost; I want to thank my latest follower and second reviewer BlackBeaut for your super encouraging words! If I am able to share this fic with only a small handful of people who enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it, then I consider this story a mission accomplished! I want to thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read and review! You are awesome sauce slathered over an extra-large side of kick ass fantastic!

The same goes for my 7 followers in counting (you know who you are!) Thanks for making my every day existence a bit easier guys; Cybernetic Raccoon kisses to you all

And now, on with the adventure….

Chapter 8: Better Made Plans….

Nova Prime Rael had excepted Rockets plan without hesitation, complimenting his abilities and willingness to go above and beyond for Xandar as well as his Team. Rocket shrugged off the Xandarian females praise easily, not really giving a flying flarg about the politics involved in the mission; he was only interested in helping Seven get out of that hell hole alive. As for Peter Quill, his fellow Guardians had never seen him so focused and driven for success on any mission they had accompanied him on in the past. He poured over Rocket's plan obsessively, going over all the blueprints they had available of the Research Facility, making side notations of alternate exit strategies, and asking Rocket to take an inventory of their artillery while he was at it. Rocket for his part was preparing the Milano for battle as best as he was able; updating their stellar cartography satellite imaging systems, fine tuning and reinforcing their shields, repairing the two small leaks they had in their dilithium chambers, and making sure their ship was as armed to the teeth as possible. Peter had found it difficult to sleep at all, waking from nightmares on more than one occasion as they neared Negamite Prime, the realization that his Sister could be being tortured every single second that they were zooming through the Gamma Quadrant at Warp 8 was causing his nerves to fry and his thoughts to overload senselessly. Both Gamora and Drax had had to drag Peter away from his console more than once; but both of them knew better than to approach Rocket with any intention of telling the Procyon what was good for him, knowing that if they were to try to tell him to get some sleep they would just get snarled at and possibly assaulted with any number of tools from Rocket's extensive collection. Making matters worse; Nova Prime Rael had contacted them as they were a day away from reaching Negamite Prime and gave them the grave news that her agent hadn't contacted her for thirty-six hours now and it was cause for concern as his orders were to report their status every twelve hours to her religiously. Quill blanched at this particular piece of information, fearing that the worst had happened, and they may never reach her in time.

It took several minutes for 723 to realize that the reason she could not move her mouth to speak was due to the fact that the blood clotting the fur around her lips had dried together in a congealed mess. She was lying still on something hard and cold; which could have been a steel slab or the unforgiving concrete of the floor in her cell, but the lack of dampness beneath her and the abundance of light above her told her that it was the former and not the latter. She tried to open her eyes, but one had swollen shut from one or more of the crushing blows that she had suffered earlier at the hands of one of the Terran guards who had been ordered to torture her while Dr. Ambron filmed the attack and jested into the camera; telling Nova Prime Rael that he knew about her attempts to infiltrate 'His' research facility, and that the Terran Scientist come spy she had sent was currently receiving treatment that was much worse than 'His Experiment' was receiving right now. The demented doctor had assured Nova Prime via the recording that Ronan's People were still coming for her and that by the time she received the footage, her fuck boy secret agent would be dead, and they would be well on their way to Xandar.

"As for you, Vermin filth, you are going to receive a few final alterations before your little field trip to Xandar; that's if you survive the punishment you're receiving for being in collusion with Irani Rael's little secret agent," Dr. Ambron sneered, zooming in as the Terran Guard broke 723's nimble fingers one by one for the camera, her screams piercing the air and echoing down the corridors of the facility.

That had been God knew how much earlier and 723 swallowed thickly as she tried to move her fingers and was rewarded with agonizingly sharp and lancing pains for her troubles. The one eye she could see out of that wasn't swollen shut told her that she was indeed in a laboratory as it adjusted blaringly to the bright light. To her left, she could see that she was attached to several different monitors and four separate intravenous drips; and to her right she could see several large syringes filed with a luminescent blue substance. 723 squinted at the syringes contents in an attempt to gage what kind of gelatinous ooze they contained, and she felt her stomach drop as she realized that there were hundreds, perhaps thousands of miniscule dots moving around of their own accord inside of the glowing substance. What the Hell were they injecting her with now?

"They're Nanites, Subject 723. Millions of teeny, tiny little robots that we are going to inject inside of you; you'll be the perfect invincible and nearly indestructible weapon that those fuckwit Xandarians will have ever seen; that Whore Irani Rael will never know what hit her!" Dr. Ambron chuckled ambiguously, moving around her steel slab and adjusting the drip ratio of her I.V.'s. 723 knew better than to even move a fraction of an inch or draw any kind of attention to herself as he worked for fear of further punishment of any kind. She was resilient, but she didn't think that she could bare anymore pain until she healed from her current injuries; if she survived them at all. Belatedly, she thought of Dr. Samson and the kindness he had shown to her and she wondered if he was still alive, and if he wasn't she hoped that the poor mans death had been somewhat merciful and then she wondered if hers would be. Dr. Ambron strapped her down to the steel slab beneath her with thick leather restraints and began tapping codes into his Data Pad, causing 723 to be suddenly encased in a type of cryogenic coffin-like detainment pod. She felt panic seize her as her chest tightened, the thought of not being able to breathe crossing her mind suddenly and she tried to keep still as the monitors beeped loudly beside her; betraying her fear and discomfort to Dr. Ambron at once. As was the usual case, he ignored her spiking systolic and diastolic numbers on the monitor, simply dosing her I.V. with hydrochlorothiazide and flooding the pod with gas that made the remaining air within smell very wrong. 723 twisted her head from side to side, suddenly desperately seeking clean oxygen that wasn't laced with anesthetizing vapor. Her vision was clouding quickly, but not before she felt the stabbing pain of six elongated needles piercing her body simultaneously until they hit bone on both sides of her body; her last garbled thoughts leaving her as she thought So much for waiting to heal before receiving more pain.

In a not so distant asteroid belt, a glowing golden sphere could be seen slowly spinning; gathering matter and stardust and asteroid particles as though it was feeding itself choice morsels of intergalactic debris. The sphere was traveling along at a nominal rate and growing in size sporadically as it gained energy and stamina, speed increasing as it consumed an entire star cluster and finally, a small nebula. Even to the naked eye, one could see that the golden sphere was traveling with purpose on a specific route to a specific planet; its rotating axis making a beeline for Negamite Prime.

Rocket was spitting curses as he stabilized the dilithium within the warp core matrix and sealed what could have ended in a warp core breach if he hadn't have caught it in time. The Milano's lights came up to full power once more; signaling that the danger had been eclipsed and the ships engines whirred back to life as Gamora set the Propulsion and Thrusters back to Warp 7, the crew of the ship aware that they couldn't push it to travel at Warp 8 continuously for days on end without it resulting in massive systems failure.

"I fuckin told Quill that this rust bucket sorry piece of Terran scrap dung can't be pushed to adhere to those speeds for that long! But who the hell am I? I'm just the mug that's been genetically engineered to fly these pieces a shit." Rocket vented to Groot, who stood to the side of Rockets work area observing the poor Procyon as he raced back and forth between different hatches in the Milano's small engine room.

"Rocket come in, this is Quill." Rockets comm watch crackled, making his teeth set on edge in irritation.

"What a fuckin surprise. I told ya Quill! We all fuggin told ya, ya d'ast Moron! Thanks to this Alyssa Milano, Beverley hills 90210 reject of a fuckin barbie mobile, we've fallen behind by a good nine hours! So much for us being on an emergency mission! What kinda shitty space police are we? Drivin a fuggin one wheeled joke mobile across the Galaxy. She ain't fit to fly Quill, and so help me merciful Raccoon Jesus, if you don't buy a new ship as soon as we're done with this suicide mission, im'ma have ya court marshalled for endangering this team by Nova Prime herself!" Rocket growled ferally, spittle flying from his muzzle he was so livid. Sure, they had had their fair share of eminent repairs that had stalled their travels from time to time in the past, but this one had been the most dangerous; not to mention the fact that they were desperate for all the time they could get at the moment with no margin for error. Rocket tossed his tricorder down angrily awaiting Star-Schmuck's reply, but all he heard was a sudden intake of breath and a sigh on the other end of the comm and dead silence after.

"How the fuck am I supposed to respond to you breathin Quill? What happened? Did you forget how to tell me to go fuck myself or what?" Rocket demanded, repacking his tools and wiping up dilithium granules from the engine room console.

"No. You're right Rocket…I messed this one up pretty bad. I was just making sure that you were okay down there…" Quill confessed, his voice devoid of any traces of humor or hostility.

"What? Whaddaya mean? Of course, I'm okay and why do you care? You never check on me after shit like this. Geeze, now you got me feelin all guilty for cussing you out and shit; that's not how you and me work and you know it," Rocket said irritably, his tail swishing and twitching irksomely.

"What?" Quill asked, nonplussed.

"Ugh! I'm supposed to cuss you out and call you a fuck up who don't know enough about technology to not wipe your ass with a pile of leaves, then you're supposed to call me a furry irritating asshole; and we're supposed to trade insults back and forth until we've both blown off enough steam to get back to work, that's how you and me function. This passive apologetic shit gotta go Quill, you're making me nervous down here, I can't even concentrate," Rocket replied for clarification as he made his way back towards the artillery room. There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the comm link and Rocket wondered if they had lost signal when he heard Peter sniff a couple of times on the other end and he all but lost his cool.

"Look here Quill, I'm gonna put my gear away and then I'm going to come up to the cockpit, by which time I expect you to be the same asshole that thinks I'm an asshole and says it to my face on a daily fuggin basis at least twice a day; we clear?" Rocket asked gruffly, his voice as close to amiable as he could get it to; when an alert sounded, signaling them that they had an incoming transmission. Rocket raced through the corridor and then up to the cockpit, taking the steps two at a time.

"It's an urgent transmission from Nova Prime," Gamora announced as she put the transmission on screen.

"Guardians, I have received a communication from Dr. Marsa Ambron himself a quarter of an hour ago. I'm afraid that my agent has been discovered and has most likely been killed," Nova Prime Rael said tensely. Peter grimaced painfully, his head in his hands at the grave news that he had been dreading.

"And Seven?" He asked, a crushing weight baring down on his chest as he feared the worse. Rocket exchanged tense looks with Drax and Gamora as they witnessed Irani Rael's face pale as she cleared her throat to continue.

"In the recording I received, she was still alive." She replied, her usually steadfast tone wavering with rare emotion.

"But?" Peter asked, his face reddening with a mixture of anger and barely suppressed grief.

"Dr. Ambron found out that Seven was being cared for by Dr. Samson; Dr. Archibald Samson, that was my agents name. I worked with him for nearly fifteen years. Forgive me for rambling; in the video footage, she was still alive, but they were…...punishing her severely for her involvement with Dr. Samson." Nova Prime reported shakily, causing Rocket to cringe with empathy at what the video footage must have shown.

Peter puffed out a frustrated sigh and gripped the console before him as though attempting to stay grounded to the ship around him, what if he was too late?

"We're nine hours behind, I mean they could be doing absolutely anything to her, she could be dead already-

"Guardian Quill, you are pressing full steam ahead as best as you can, surmises and self-recrimination won't do anyone any good. You will reach Negamite Prime and when you do, you will move along with Rocket's plan. That is all you can do; in the interim I am putting the Nova Corps on Red Alert until we know that the situation is under control. You will keep me informed of your location at all times and alert me as soon as you reach the planet. Nova Prime Out." The leader of the Nova Corps winked off the viewscreen and Drax came forward to place a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. Gamora turned the Milano's controls over to Rocket once more and he strapped himself in without comment, bringing the ship about and entering command codes as he went.

"Are you fuggin kidding me? We got company, but I think my crutaxin console is malfunctioning again!" Rocket groaned, re-scanning their surroundings again.

"What is it?" Quill asked, looking over Rocket's shoulder at the readings he was getting and wondering if his ship had finally went completely haywire.

"On screen…." muttered Quill, frowning.

Ego's face- or at least the face he had made for Peter's benefit- appeared on the viewscreen in glowing resolution; causing the Guardians to gape open-mouthed before Peter broke the shocked silence.

"What the Hell? We killed you! We blew you to smithereens and you should be dead!" He shouted half in anger, half in stunned disbelief.

"Hello to you too Peter. I hate to break it to you this way Kid, but you can't kill a Celestial; Immortal is immortal. But don't panic, I'm still pretty much in my healing stages and I'm not nearly as powerful as I was when you attempted patricide. In fact, you'll be happy to know that I won't be that powerful for quite a long time." Ego said serenely, as though nothing brash had occurred between them. Peter's face flushed crimson once more in his anger and he carded his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"If it is true that he is not as powerful now, we should blow him up again and tear him limb from limb!" Drax shouted enthusiastically, making his way towards the air hatch and reaching for one of their blaster guns in the process.

"I agree with the walking Thesaurus," Rocket said, rubbing his hands together gleefully in anticipation.

"Would you change your mind if I told you that I could get you to Negamite Prime to rescue her in seconds? I have at least that much energy and capability." Ego interrupted their macabre intentions.

"Yeah? And why the hell would you help us? Why would you help her? Why did you even create her? To suffer? To die? You're such a prick," Peter bellowed accusatorily, jerking away from Gamora's hand on his arm and turning away from the viewscreen in an attempt to quell his raising temper.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way. The truth is, I love 723; I love the both of you very much. Let me help you Peter," Ego said, appearing in the cockpit in front of his Son. Peter made to lunge himself at Ego, but Gamora and Drax caught him at his shoulders to stop him and hold him back while Rocket unstrapped himself from the Pilots seat and faced Ego, arms crossed, and teeth bared in a snarl.

"Oh, you're gonna help us alright Old Man." Rocket sneered, bringing an image up on the viewscreen showing that the basketball-sized energy sphere that was actually Ego was being held in a stasis chamber in their small cargo bay.

"What have you done?" Ego asked, attempting to vanish and transport his essence and failing.

"That's a little invention of my own making; see while you're stuck in that chamber, you're unable to grow or amass more energy from your surroundings-yeah, I know that's how you Celestial's feed; that's why you had trouble sleeping and needed Mantis all those years. You could never stop amassing and storing energy out in space huh? It also keeps you from transporting anywhere." Rocket looked at Ego smugly as the Godlike being looked futilely around himself for an escape route and came up empty handed.

"Rocket lets blast that stasis chamber into the next black hole we find," Peter said jerkily as he struggled in Drax and Gamora's grasp.

"Sure. After he transports us to Negamite Prime and helps us get Seven safely aboard the Milano," Rocket agreed, staring Ego in the eye and letting him know that he was very capable of such violent intent.

"Peter, you have to give me a chance here. Please," Ego begged in earnest.

"You had your fucking chance! You tried to enslave me to take over the universe! You killed my Mother, you murderous sonovabitch, and if you think that I'm just going to let you go, you are dead wrong. Get us to Negamite Prime now or we can search for that black hole as we make our way there on our own; your choice." Peter said vehemently, ripping free of his friends' grasp and straightening his red leather jacket. Ego nodded, making his way over to the navigations console with Rocket following behind him training his telescoping blaster at Ego's back.

"You cannot kill me with that you know," The Celestial said almost goadingly to the Procyon. Rocket smiled icily as he powered the gun on with a whirring buzz and several clicks as the telescope unwound and came to life.

"I can't kill you; but the amount of pain a blast from this baby could cause you would sure as hell make my flight duty shift more fun." Rocket replied, making Ego's condescending smile waiver slightly in uncertainty.

Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Kick Names and Take Ass  
Time to Kick Names And Take Ass

As Ego stood at the Piloting Console and took the overly loved and very much decrepit Milano 125 jumps in 1.3 minutes, Rocket powered on the miniature cloaking emitter to disguise the ship and began accessing the power matrix on Negamite Prime to short out the research facility's power grid. Peter was doing a last-minute debriefing with Drax and Gamora, double checking artillery and strapping into his aero rig.

"You better strap into yours too, Nipple Boy." Rocket said to Drax pointedly as he neatly bypassed the Kreean warbirds that were orbiting the planet undetected.

"Do not call me Nipple Boy," Drax scowled, grudgingly strapping an aero rig on nonetheless. Rocket snorted as he manually altered the velocity of the Milano to compensate for atmospheric pressure as they landed. The ship shuddered as they dropped out of cloud cover and a lush green forest appeared below them, tapering off and giving way to dozens of greenhouses and in the near distance, the research facility where Seven was being held. Rocket veered the Milano passed a grouping of greenhouses at the rear of the facility and landed smoothly at the tree line behind greenhouse 37.

"Well that was fuggin easy," Rocket shrugged, unstrapping himself and grabbing his telescoping blaster from the back of his chair where it was hanging by its strap like his own personal fashion accessory. He trained the blaster at Ego and motioned for him to move towards the main doors as Peter lowered the ramp. Gamora removed her tricorder from its holster and took a reading from their surroundings, checking for guards or booby traps.

"Clear so far," She reported as Ego and Peter moved passed her slowly down the ramp.

"The power grid just fried. Its showtime," Rocket said gleefully as he checked his chronometer. Sure enough, an alarm blared in the distance from the facility and raised voices could be heard as the guards patrolling its perimeter ran inside to avoid the floods of water gushing from the hydroelectric energy pipes as their system shut down.

"Peter, we have to hurry…somethings wrong," Ego said, doubling over as a wave of intense pain burned a path over his entire body. He felt 723's life force ebbing away faintly, a small light in an ocean of lights that he could see in the matrix of Negamite Prime that was fading slowly before his eyes.

"I'm going in through the pipes, you guys keep behind me and cover my ass. Can you see where she is?" Rocket asked the Celestial with as much patience as he could muster. Ego reached out through a telepathic link he shared with 723, trying to contact her, telling her he was coming to help her, but all he received was an eerie silence for his troubles. Her thoughts were faint and garbled, but images of a laboratory flashed before his eyes and the face of Doctor Ambron. Ego concentrated on the facility itself and picked out his Daughters life force among several others in the research facility.

"I can lead you to her, but we have to hurry. Its almost too late," Ego said, racing towards the back door of the building.

"Doors aren't a good idea here, old man. What are we gonna do? Just walk in?" Rocket asked, nonplussed.\

"Dr. Ambron had no reason to deactivate my clearance into the facility if he thought that I was dead, so in essentials, yes, we are just going to walk in." Ego replied, turning and seeking Peters approval with a look. Peter looked to Rocket, a silent question in his eyes as Drax and Gamora waited for orders from one of them.

"Yeah, let's just all stand here lookin at each other like d'ast morons! Let's move! Get the doors open, Pops." Rocket growled impatiently, gesturing with his blaster at the door. Ego typed in his clearance codes and the door hissed open to admit them, the lighting in the vacant hallway dim due to the emergency lights dull glare as they moved ahead silently. The Celestial reached out again and felt 723's thin thread of unconsciousness snap suddenly, her faint jumbled thoughts falling silent, the soft glow of her essence winking out into pitch darkness. Ego collapsed to his knees without warning and released a sorrowfully keening cry the likes of which halted the Guardians in their tracks. Peter blanched, unwilling to believe what he knew deep inside must be true; they were too late. The look of anguish on Ego's face mirrored his own as his heart sank and his body went numb momentarily with shock.

"No…." Rocket said hollowly, looking between the Celestial and his Best Friend, his brown eyes seeking; pleading for a different answer than the one Peters anguished gaze gave him. Rocket shoved past his fellow Guardians and aimed his gun at Ego, an enraged snarl rumbling from his chest as he trained the weapon at the only source of misery within reach.

"You're a God. Fix this." He demanded, absolutely zero supplication in his tone as he looked at Peters biological Father with a glare of disgust.

Ego raised his tear stained face to the Cybernetic Procyon, so much like the Daughter he had just lost. Rocket had the same spirit, the same defiance and strength.

"I'm not strong enough to bring her back yet, I won't have regained that type of strength and ability for months if not years and by then it will be too late." He explained regretfully.

"What about my powers? What if we join together? There has to be a way!" Peter exclaimed impatiently while Drax and Gamora kept a wary look out for unwelcome visitors at the end of the corridor.

"I don't get it, why didn't you make her more like you and Pete? All invincible and shit?" Rocket asked with a frown.

"She was like us, but they drained her life force so much through their torture and experiments that they must have damaged or altered her DNA sequencing. Dr. Ambron always enjoyed being sadistic." Ego replied raising to his feet and moving towards the end of the corridor only to stop dead in his tracks and turn towards Rocket again slowly.

"There may be another way….." He said slowly, his gaze fixed suddenly on Rocket as though he were the last hope for the entire universe.

"Yeah, you and Star-Schmuck here join up and bring her back. Should be simple enough," Rocket quipped with a shrug.

"No. Peter never got beyond the basics that I taught him on my world. He's useless in the realms of souls and life forces. I need you Rocket, you're all we have now to help her." He insisted

"Fine, you got it. What do I do?" Rocket agreed immediately in his typical balls in one hand, grenade in the other fashion. He never was one for patience or beating around the bush no matter the subject at hand. Ego shook his and took a deep and un-needed breath.

"So quick to agree. What I am about to ask of you will change your entire existence as well as 723's if you agree to it; there will be no changing your mind, no going back from your choice." He explained to the irritably impatient Procyon.

"Spit it out old man. I ain't got that long of a lifespan ya know." Rocket huffed, rolling his eyes.

"She needs a life force to cling to, to draw her back into herself and ground her here; back into this existence. In order to help me revive her, I will need to bind the two of you together. It would be permanent for the both of you…and this time, as she heals, her immortality would be shared between you. This decision cannot be made lightly by you, but if you were to agree to it I would be forever in your debt." Ego said softly, but Peter shook his head.

"You can't ask him to do something like that! Rocket doesn't even know Seven! What if she doesn't want this bond thing? What if he doesn't want it either? You can't just force two people to be together!"

"I'll do it." Rocket interrupted with a quiet assurance that was so unlike him.

"No! Rocket-

"Don't tell me what to do Pete. The decisions made; now where is she? How do we do this?"

"We've got company!" Gamora announced, swinging her blaster around and training it on an encroaching Guard patrol.

The corridor was suddenly alight with gunfire as Drax, Gamora, and Peter covered Ego and Rocket. The Celestial ran into the laboratory doors at the end of the hall, Rocket fast on his heels, telescoping blaster trained ahead of him. Missions like these made Rocket miss the Hell out of Groot's capabilities when he was at peak size and strength. The Procyon hated leaving Groot behind on the Milano as much as the now tiny Flora Colossus loathed the relative inaction of his new size predicament.

The Lab was silent save for the drone of a flatlined heart monitor; making Rocket falter and lower his blaster slightly as he caught sight of a small figure lying prone inside of a med pod. Ego tried his access codes on the pod to no avail, hitting the glass with his fist in frustration as an access denied message popped up on the view screen nearby.

"Ugh, Flarg this!" Rocket bit out, hitting the pod at Sevens feet with the butt of his blaster and shattering the glass that encased her. Ego and Rocket carefully disconnected her from the Monitors and IV and Ego hoisted his Daughter into his arms, swallowing thickly as he surveyed her injuries.

"Look what they did to you..." Ego whispered softly, forgetting Rocket's presence momentarily as he hugged her body closer to his chest. Rocket shook himself and hoisted his blaster again, motioning to the door.

"We gotta go Pops. Gotta get to the rest of the team and try to get Seven back to herself. We ain't gonna be helping anybody standing around feeling sorry for ourselves...or for Her," Rocket made his way to the doors first, his sensitive ears and enhanced hearing straining for sounds of blaster fire and explosions; and sighing in relief when he heard Peter and Drax letting forth a few choice swear words as they reclaimed the corridor from the Guard patrol.

"We need to perform the Bonding now, she's slipping too far away." Ego implored, laying the lifeless form of Seven on the floor between Rocket and Himself. Ego placed one palm on Sevens chest and the other on Rockets own. Rocket knew a moment of temporary blindness as a pulsating flash of energy filled the corridor around them and with it; Ego had disappeared.

"That Son Of A—" Rocket bit back his vulgar tirade when Seven gasped for breath at his feet and a wave of relief flooded over him as he peered down at her; a sudden urge to protect her overwhelming him completely. He lifted her unconscious form into his arms and ran back the way they had come; Peter, Gamora, and Drax hot on his heels blasting away anyone that blocked their path; Guard and Scientist alike. An unarmed Dr. Samson nearly fell from a door to their left, causing Peter to stumble slightly as they collided with one another. The middle-aged scientist had a large bag slung over his shoulder that hit Peter's side painfully as Dr. Samson sunk slowly to his knees.

"Take it for her," He gasped painfully, blood falling thick and warm and crimson from a large and oozing slice in his forehead. Drax huffed impatiently and grabbed both Samson and the large bag in one swoop and swung them both over his shoulder.

"Come on Quill," Drax growled, shoving Peter forward ahead of him as their small group continued dodging and returning phasor blasts.

Peter saw the door bolted ahead of them and knew a moment of panic before Rocket tossed a small gadget from his belt, causing the door to blast outward in hundreds of metal and glass shards. Once outside, Rocket pulled another device from his belt and clicked a series of buttons; detonating all of the little 'presents' he left behind them as they ran in to rescue Seven.

"Remind me to thank you for that," Peter gasped as they reached the tree line and The Milano came into view.

"Yeah, don't mention it Starklutz," Rocket replied, leaping up into the ship with Seven in his arms; not waiting for the ramp to lower completely to get his burden to safety. Drax followed next with Dr. Samson and his oversized bag in tow with Peter and Gamora bringing up the rear. Peter wasted no time in bringing the Milano back into the atmosphere as Gamora sent a coded message to Xandar and the Nova Prime to report that their mission had been successful thus far and she would send a full report soon.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Tha Connection Part 1  
Chapter 10: The Connection

Rocket ran through the Milano almost blindly, racing for the Cargo Bay and the medical supplies they had there. He could hear Drax pounding down the corridors behind him carrying the unconscious Terran scientist and the large bag that he had said belonged to Seven prior to losing consciousness. Seven seemed to weigh next to nothing in Rockets arms, and though he knew that he was fairly strong due to his cybernetic engineering; he could tell that she was severely malnourished as he could feel the bones of her spine as well as the implants in her back digging into his arms as he carried her. The Cargo Bay doors hissed open and Rocket deposited her onto one of the three med cots they had stored there as gently as he possibly could. Drax laid Dr. Samson on a med cot opposite her in time for Gamora's voice to crackle through his comm watch,

"Gamora to Drax, we need you to take the helm as soon as you can report to the bridge. I need to have a look at that Terran,"

Knowing that Gamora was the only other Team member with any medical knowledge besides Rocket, Drax retreated from the cargo bay turned infirmary as Rocket strapped an oxygen mask over Sevens swollen and bloodied face, careful not to place the masks strap over her swollen eye and cheek bone. Rocket took a tricorder and began scanning Seven to assess her injuries as Peter and Gamora raced in; Gamora going to the Terran at once to stabilize him and Peter jogging to Sevens bedside anxiously, his face strained with worry.

"How can I help?" He asked Rocket as the Procyon scanned her prone form below him; he had hopped onto the cot to better reach his patient, walking up and down her bedside slowly as his scans reported her injuries.

"Well, I'm gonna need a dermal regenerator, that's for sure," Rocket replied, motioning to the storage cabinets behind the beds. Peter moved into action at once as Rocket began attaching a bio bed scanner to Sevens med cot.

"What are we looking at here?" Peter asked nonplussed as he viewed the bio scanners readings.

"Whatever we're lookin at, I need to find a new Intravenous site because the PIC lines she had at that Hell hole are overused and their liable to collapse and cause Infiltration." Rocket replied, using a handheld ultrasonic generator to locate a safe and unused vein and shaving the small patch of fur concealing it to get a clear shot with his needle. Peter nodded wordlessly and made his way to the head of the bed, picking strands of long black and grey hair out of Seven's face as he surveyed her injuries with a quiet fury; a lump constricting his throat. Rocket thrust an antiseptic hypo spray into Peter's hands as he took one for himself and began disinfecting wounds on her hands, arms, and chest.

"Use that on her face; just smooth and steady back and forth motions like so," Rocket demonstrated, and Peter followed, getting to work carefully around her eyes.

"This Terran is in critical condition, I do not know if I will be able to salvage him," Gamora called over her shoulder as she worked to staunch internal hemorrhaging in his lungs.

"Yeah, I'm not too fuckin worried about him right now," Rocket growled, tail twitching irritably as he finally paused to study the readings from the bio scanner. Rocket frowned in concern as Seven began to seize and the wounds on her face began to bleed anew.

"Rocket, tell me what's happening to her!" Peter demanded as several alarms blared shrilly at once, putting Peter on edge.

"Widespread organ cascade flux; apparently those bastards thought it would be a good idea to pump her full of Nanites as a parting thanks for her service. They're traveling through her entire body right now; organs, tissues, bloodstream, the works." Rocket intimated, hopping back with a sudden curse as her broken fingers began to reset themselves with loud pops and cracks and the wounds on her face, arms, and chest began to mend halfway.

"Uh, how the fuck is that happening?!" Peter asked, dropping the antiseptic hypo spray.

"That'd be the Nanites." Rocket replied, hoping that he would at least be able to hydrate Seven Intravenously without the Nanites rejecting the IV in her arm. He filled a hypo spray with 100mg of Triptacederine for pain and injected it into her neck, watching as her blood pressure stabilized and the monitors alarms returned to their normal quiet pinging as they measured her vital signs. Rocket gingerly started a new PIC line in the newly-shaved area on her right forearm, letting out a relieved sigh as he was able to flush it with saline and connect a hydration and nutrient drip without her Nanites rejecting it.

"I have the Terran stabilized for now, but I can guarantee nothing, his injuries are too severe. I believe that he will die before we reach Xandar," Gamora said as she began using a dermal regenerator on one of his head wounds.

"Rocket….?" Peter sounded broken; his voice devoid of its usual easy-going confidence. He couldn't verbalize any further than his pint-sized friends name; but the tone in which he spoke it asked Rocket and Gamora all of the questions that he couldn't voice himself. For his own part, Rocket did not want to look at Quill and tell him that he wasn't sure; even after the Nanites repairing her broken bones and her some of her contusions and wounds. Seven had suffered severe internal injuries, her oxygen saturations were low, and she couldn't breathe on her own yet. There were also the repercussions of the bond that Ego had created between himself and Seven, even now he felt a pull towards her; an instinctual ache to stay with his new Mate and comfort her as much as he could. Rocket had never loved anything or anyone in his life besides Groot; and even that was a different love than this. He had never spoken to this young woman in his life, they hadn't even been introduced yet; but something had drastically shifted in Rocket and he knew that he would never be the same. She had to survive, because he knew that he couldn't live without her.

"I've got her stabilized for now, but she's not in the clear yet." He finally said to Peter, taking a seat on the side of Seven's bed and jabbing a straw into a water ration pack; sucking half of it down in one gulp before he allowed himself to slump against the bedrail. The adrenaline from the mission and subsequent escape was finally subsiding now that he had his Mate stabilized and he was exhausted.

Peter swallowed thickly at the sight of the prone figure of his Sister laid out before him, images of his Mother assaulting his mind in flashes, one after another of her slowly withering before his eyes in the hospital, at the chemotherapy clinic, and then in the Oncology Ward under the care of the Hospice nurses and doctors; All we can do now is make sure that she's as comfortable as possible…

The soft voice of the doctor floated back to him from decades ago, and it made him cringe and ache deep inside; like a gauging wound that had festered and blackened. It was the part of Peter that he buried and kept hidden for as long as possible under the rugged, easy-going jokester that he personified nearly all his life. There was a shadowed place deep in his soul; a void that Meredith Quill, Mother-Companion-Sister-Daughter-Friend had lived and filled with her love and presence, her sweet laughter and kind hazel eyes, her gentleness of spirit. She had been ripped out of that place inside him and he could always feel that gaping hole, ever aching, just below the surface.

"…..Peter?" Gamora asked uncertainly and apparently, for the second time.

"Huh?" He asked distractedly, shaking his head and clearing his throat.

"Can you inform me if the Terrans' condition changes? I need to assist Drax with navigating the next jump, you should stay here with Rocket and…and your Sister," she finished awkwardly, not wanting to call the raccoonoid by a number. Peter nodded, clearing his throat again and trying to rein in his focus better. His Mother was gone and there was nothing that he could do about that; but he could try his damnable best to take good care of his Sister and the Doctor who was partially responsible for keeping her alive before they had rescued her.

"Do you think that she's in a lot of pain, Rocket?" Peter asked suddenly, not meeting the Procyon's eyes fully. Rocket's tail twitched slightly; a sure sign that he was going to answer guardedly with his temper in check as much as he could check it.

"I dosed her with as much analgesic as I safely could. When I read her Tox levels earlier, there were high amounts of several different types of anesthetics in her system residual from all of the experimental procedures that have been done on her lately. From what I could tell, she's had at least a dozen different procedures and modifications done on her in the past 3 to 6 months. From the looks of it, they did a number on her digestive track and stomach too; she isn't able to digest anything solid at all." Rocket said acerbically.

"What the hell would they do that for?" Peter asked, rising from his seat and moving his chair to sit at her bedside; the better to view the vitals scrolling across the bio bed screens.

"Well, it's cheaper to feed the slave laborer with nutritional supplement mush and water rations than actual food right? I was on the same flargin diet once upon a time, Quill." Rocket snipped in agitation at the memories that sprang to mind of his own genetic and cybernetic engineering.

"But…you eat food now, so it's reversible right?" Peter asked hesitantly, knowing that he was treading thin ice with Rocket now. He was almost never forthcoming about his past to Peter, only alluding to bits and pieces of information lately and only if it pertained somehow to Seven's situation. Rockets fur bristled noticeably on his biceps and the back of his neck, the muscles in his jaw working as he made to round on Peter with clenched fists; but when he met the Terrans gaze he deflated almost instantly. Perhaps they were making some kind of progress after all this time; maybe Rocket was finally realizing that Peter considered him as his equal, as his friend. Surely the entire team had been through enough shit together for Rocket to know that they were all mutually connected by an unspoken bond?

"I had a procedure done in a private hospital on Contraxia after I had a decent amount of units to pay a surgeon that I could trust. He was able to reverse most of what they had done to my stomach and intestines, but I still have to take vitamin injections weekly to supplement whatever nutrition that I can't absorb from the food I eat," Rocket admitted quietly. Peter was stunned, saddened, and angered in equal measures at this revelation; no wonder Rocket always kept his guard up and preferred the company of Groot to anyone else aboard the Milano.

"So…..so we're talking another surgery to reverse what they did to her?" Peter asked with concern. Rocket shook his head and cleared his throat, still avoiding Peter's gaze as he answered;

"We need to concentrate our efforts on keeping her alive and stabilized for the next 24 to 72 hours before we even think that far ahead. Right now her body wouldn't be able to handle any kind of invasive procedure if she needed one. The Nanites aren't rejecting her I.V. fluids right now, which is a good sign in and of itself that I might, might be able to place a feeding tube if she needs it. Hopefully she'll regain consciousness soon and start drinking water and nutritional shakes on her own and we won't need to do that on top of everything else."

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Connection Part 2  
Chapter 11: The Connection Part 2

Hi Everyone! First off, thank you, thank you, a hundred times, thank you for your patience, your support, your kind words and encouragement. You guys will never ever know what all of it means to me. Secondly, I apologize for the wait! Life has been crazy! Job changes, lay-offs and rehires, classes, battling depression and anxiety, etc. Thank you for hanging with me through it all. I love each and every one of you; my family

Peter Quill was awakened to the sounds of blaring alarms as the Terran doctor in the bed beside his Sister stopped breathing. Rocket sat bolt upright at the same time Peter did muttering a string of curses as he leapt out of the bed he had been sharing with Seven.

"Peter to Gamora, Doc here just flat-lined." He said into his comm watch as he squinted into the bright light that Rocket had just turned on. Rocket loaded a stimulant into his hypo-spray and injected it into the Terrans neck, dragging the cardiac cart over and charging the paddles. Gamora appeared a moment later, wide-eyed and wary as she took the paddles from Rocket.

"Set the charge to 120 and clear," She said, shocking Dr. Samson and waiting for any response to appear.

"Nothin', setting charge to 130," Rocket replied, adjusting the voltage and stepping back as Gamora shocked him again.

"Set to 140 and clear," She replied, shocking him once more.

"Nada. Call it, he's toast." Rocket said dispassionately, no love lost for the Terran Doctor.

"Time of Death, 0300 ho-" Gamora's voice came to a halt as she was shoved aside by Seven, who had dragged herself from her bed unbeknownst to her companions and stumbled forward to climb onto Dr. Samson's bed.

"Seven, lay back down honey." Peter came forward slowly, not wanting to frighten her and cause her to fall and injure herself further. Seven ignored him completely as she clambered onto the prone Doctors chest and tore his pajama top clean down the middle with her sharp nails.

"Seven…he's gone. You have to lay down, you're bleeding." Rocket insisted, coming forward and laying a hand on her shoulder gently. Seven ignored Rocket as well, closing her eyes momentarily in concentration as a radiant golden-white light emanated from her palms. Peter, Rocket, and Gamora were blown back suddenly by an unseen force as the light spread; encompassing Sevens small form, then moving to encompass Dr. Samson, and then the entire cargo bay/infirmary. The three Guardians were blinded as the phenomenon spread and engulfed them. By all rights, Peter knew he should be confused as fuck and possibly pissing himself scared, but instead he felt a sense of safety, warmth, and love the likes of which he had never felt before; it was like nothing he could describe. Rocket struggled to open his eyes and look at her, make sure that she was alright, that whatever was happening wasn't hurting her. He squinted hopelessly around him in the direction that he thought the bed was in, eyes watering in pain, corneas feeling like they were searing.

"Seven! Seven, where are you?" Rocket called, voice trembling with effort. What the flarging hell was happening to him? He crawled forward blindly hand over hand, every inch exhausting his strength. Gamora was swept further back until she felt the wall of the Milano's bulkhead flush against her back and the warmth and comfort of the light becoming nearly corporeal as it gently held her there in place. Peters throat constricted as he realized that he could feel something more beneath the current of golden energy, something that was love and fear and pain and need and strength; something, some feeling that was uniquely Seven. He felt her lifeforce surrounding him, wordlessly reassuring him that it was okay, that she wasn't going to hurt any of them, that she was trying to help, but that they couldn't interfere. The energy surged completely white and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, and the Guardians were able to move again. Peter exhaled shakily as he squinted his eyes open, he and Rocket nearly colliding as they simultaneously lunged forward towards the Terran doctors' bed and the prone figure next to it on the floor.

"Oh…no," Peter knelt and picked Seven up gently, depositing her back onto the bio bed as Rocket scrambled for his tricorder once more.

"What the hell happened?" Gamora breathed, taking in the sight of a bloodied Seven, whose injuries seemed afflicted anew; her once black and grey shoulder length hair was now completely blanched white.

"I don't know, oh God I don't know. Rocket...?" Peter asked, agony clutching at his lungs as he peered down at her wasted form.

"I got a pulse, but its thready. Gamora, I need 20 cc's of Benjisidrine now." Gamora slapped the hypospray into his hand and replaced the oxygen mask on Sevens face, handing Peter a dermal regenerator and taking one herself.

"The fuck is that beeping noise?" Rocket asked over his shoulder as he injected Seven with a small dose of Lectrazine to stabilize her cardiovascular and renal systems.

"Oh my God," Gamora dropped the dermal regenerator in shock as she turned towards the offending noise, realizing that Dr. Samson was not only breathing once more, but his entire body was on the mend. Gamora yanked her tricorder from her belt and ran it over his body, activating the bio bed scanner so that it hissed back into place over his midsection.

"Brain function, nervous system, cardiovascular, circulatory, renal, its all functioning normally now. The beeping noise is the bio bed registering his pulse and heart rhythm. Everything is back to normal, he's just asleep now." Gamora said in awe.

"The hell you mean? That Humie was dead not five minutes ago, you called it, he was worm food." Rocket said over his shoulder, not missing a beat as he worked to keep Seven alive and stabilized.

"I know that, but now he isn't. It was the light…. Seven brought him back. There is no other explanation, the light overtook this entire room and it brought him back to life, you felt its power." She said, staring at the female raccoonoid in amazement.

"Yeah, but look what it did to her? Look at all the…. all the blood and her hair." Peter gestured sadly, swiping at his face irritably as tears spilled down his face. He turned back towards Seven with the dermal regenerator in hand, slowly mending the wounds the way Rocket had shown him earlier.

"Well whatever the flarg she did to bring him back from the dead, it nearly killed her. She cannot do anything like that again until she regains her strength and her health, I'll be lucky if she makes it through the night now. Pete, I hate to say this but, I think we need to clamp some restraints on her to make sure she stays in bed and doesn't pull another lightshow." Rocket said uneasily.

"So we need to what, cuff her to the goddamn bed like some kind of criminal? Are you serious dude?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Look, I can't sedate her any further. I told you earlier that her system is already swimming with a mixed cocktail of analgesics and anesthetics that could take out Drax for a damned month at least. If she pulls another stunt like the one we just witnessed, she will die. We don't have many options here Quill." Rocket reasoned, attaching thick leather restraints to Sevens bio bed and gently strapping her down in three places, carefully avoiding the IV that was currently feeding her fluids.

"I wish Mantis were here, maybe she could've made her sleep like she used to do with Ego." Peter reasoned, sinking back into the chair he had previously fallen asleep in beside her bed.

"Yeah, well she aint here. No use wishing for her either, she decided to take a break from saving the universe remember?" Rocket asked bitterly, washing the blood off of his hands in the steel sink in the corner.

"Do not blame Mantis for this misfortune." The disembodied voice of Drax said stiffly, emanating from the comm on the wall.

"Drax, what the hell? You're supposed to be concentrating on flying the ship and watching Groot." Gamora scolded with a sigh.

"Groot is napping and we're traveling through dead space right now. I got bored, so I decided to eavesdrop." Drax said blandly.

"Yeah, well my mom used to say that when you eavesdrop, you never hear anything good about yourself." Peter replied, hitting the console on the wall and cutting the comm.

"I heard nothing bad about myself. Only Mantis," Drax reasoned as he seamlessly reconnected the comm once more. Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation and annoyance, snatching up a water ration pack and jabbing a straw into it, wishing it was something stronger.

"Yeah well just cause you have a crush on the bug lady don't mean the rest of us have to be okay with her abandoning the team." Rocket sniped, accepting two sandwiches that Gamora handed him from the refrigeration unit in the cargo bay and passing one to Peter, only just realizing that he hadn't eaten since at least twelve hours ago and he was suddenly starving.

"She did not abandon the team and I do not crush her, that would kill her you imbecile," Drax argued indignantly.

"Ugh. This again? Metaphor Dude, met-a-phor." Rocket growled through a mouthful of food.

"It's a stupid metaphor. And stop calling me dude." Drax said smugly.

"Oh I can call you something else if ya want," Rocket said assuredly with relish.

"Boys, can we not do this right now?" Peter asked sleepily as he rested his feet on the end of Sevens bed, eyeing the bio bed monitors warily.

"Yeah, alright." Rocket agreed, tossing his plate into the steel sink and sucking down the rest of his water in an effort to keep his mouth shut. Sometimes Drax could get on his last fucking nerve, especially when he was tired.

"Your Sister is alright then Quill?" Drax asked, changing the subject in his own effort to avoid pissing his friends off.

"Stable for now. I hope…. I hope she'll be okay." He replied, regarding the sight of her prone figure with a frown.

"You should sleep in your bed Peter; you won't get any rest in that chair. Rocket, the same goes for you. I can take over for a while." Gamora said, regarding them both with the sternest expression she could muster in hopes that it would convince them to get some actual rest.

"I'm not going anywhere space princess," Rocket replied, settling into the corner he had previously occupied on Sevens bio bed.

"I'm staying here too Gams. Although that was a nice ploy, trying to get me into bed and all." Peter quipped, ducking when she threw a wad of gauze bandaging at his head.

"Missed me," He said to her retreating form, causing Gamora to flip an obscene gesture in his direction as she exited the infirmary again. Peter smiled at the closed door that concealed Gamora from his sight a beat longer than he should have, and Rocket inwardly shook his head, wondering if he would soon be acting like a lovesick ass himself as he settled back against a spare pillow beside his new Mate.

"Hey Pete?" He asked suddenly as Quill dimmed the lighting again.

"Hmm?" He replied, settling into the chair again.

"Well, first off, why don't you roll the third bio bed out and not sleep in that tiny chair like a dufus," Rocket said, trying to break the ice in preparation for the shit he might catch for the actual request he wanted to make. Peter snorted at Rockets sensible suggestion, realizing how exhausted he must really be that he didn't think of that himself. He rolled the third bio bed next to Sevens, positioning it close enough that he could still keep an eye on the readings that he only half understood.

"And secondly?" Peter asked as he pulled off his jacket and rolled it into a makeshift pillow to cushion the pillow the bio bed came with. Rocket hesitated, feigning needing to adjust his own pillow in order to both stall and work up the nerve.

"Would you mind putting on your one of your tapes?" He asked nonchalantly as he adjusted the blanket covering Seven carefully.

"Oh…uh, yeah that would be great. I thought you hated my music." Peter said, surfing through the collection the ships computer projected in front of him.

"Well since you play it so much, its kinda grown on me I guess." Rocket confessed quietly with a shrug.

"Any requests?" Quill asked, motioning to the playlist before them.

"Maybe some Elvis or something. I don't know, whatever." Rocket shrugged noncommittally. Peter smirked in the dark and shook his head, switching on Suspicious Minds and laying back against his pillow. He closed his eyes and let the ping of the monitors on the bio beds blend in with the music and lull him to sleep. Rocket turned on his side to face Seven, knowing that sleep would continue to evade him until he was sure she was going to make it through the night and into the next day at the very least if even then.

"You scared the shit out of us earlier, you know that?" He whispered into her ear, studying the slow-healing wounds on her face and the now bright white hair framing it. Rockets night-vision was impeccable unlike his friends', so he could easily make out the details of her sleeping form in the dark and try to commit them to memory. As he reached out to grasp her hand, he had no idea where this longing feeling was coming from, but as he nuzzled closer to her in the dark and caught her scent he suddenly didn't care. Rocket caught himself watching the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled, felt the soft fur covering her small hand that fit into his almost as though it were made for it, and if he listened for it beneath the soft music playing and the ping and hum of the machines measuring her vitals and helping to keep her alive; he could hear her heartbeat too, matching the rhythm of his own thump for thump. Suspicious Minds ended and another familiar song began, the first tentative piano strokes making Rocket smile as he remembered singing the song to Groot a few months ago after he had a nightmare.

"It's a little bit funny…this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can…easily hide. I don't have much money, but girl if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live. If I was a sculptor, but then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a…traveling show. Oh I…. I know its not much, but it's the best I can do. My gift is my song and, this ones for you. And you can tell everybody, this is your song…. It may be quite simple…...but now that it's done. I hope you don't mind…...I hope you don't mind that I put down in words… How wonderful life is while you're in the world…..." He sang along note for note, a surprisingly good baritone floating off into the darkness to join the immortalized voice of a young Terran called Elton John. Nearby, Peters eyes snapped open and widened as he realized that Elton John wasn't singing a solo tonight and that Rocket, Fucking Rocket Raccoon, was singing some of the best goddamn karaoke that he had ever heard hands down. That sneaky fucker… Peter thought as Rocket continued onto the next verse, pitch for pitch, note for note. The little bastard had been hiding that talent from them for a long ass time. Peters eyes widened even further, and his mouth went dry as he realized that Rocket wasn't just singing along to the song for shits and giggles; Rocket was singing the song to Seven….

"…Anyway, the thing is… what I really mean…... Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it's done…... I hope you don't mind; I hope you don't mind; that I put down in words…... How wonderful life is while you're in the world…. I hope you don't mind; I hope you don't mind; that I put down in words…. How wonderful life is while you're in the world…" Rocket finished softly, heart clenching painfully tight when her hitherto unresponsive fingers tightened around his own and her tail, her impossibly thick-furred and soft tail, came slowly from under the blanket to gently twine with his own.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The Connection Part 3  
Chapter 12: The Connection Part 3

Peter Quill awoke when he became aware once more of the pinging of the bio bed beside him and the residual stiffness that comes from sleeping on an unfamiliar bed. Looking at his comm watch he groaned when he saw that his shift had began three hours ago. Gamora and Drax are gonna hang me out of the airlock he thought as he sat up quickly and retrieved his jacket from under the bio bed pillow, glancing at the bio bed beside him and doing a double take. At some point during the night, Rocket had taken it upon himself to curl protectively around Seven and Peter had to squint to distinguish where Rocket ended and Seven began. Peter decided that his feelings were very conflicted about these developments, but he couldn't be angry with Rocket for saving his Sisters life by binding with her on the fly the way that he had. Rocket could have refused, he had no obligation to help Peter or Seven that much, but he had. Peter shrugged his jacket back on as he made his way to Sevens bedside to peer down at her with concern in his eyes as he tried to assess with his untrained eye if her wounds had mended at all since her impromptu rescue of Dr. Samson hours before. There was blood caked on her fur in several places and Peter made a mental note to ask Gamora to come down and clean her up a little when Seven blinked her eyes open and their gazes met. Peter froze, uncertain about what to do or say as he was met with a pair of eyes that he thought he would never see again; eyes that belonged to his Mother who was dead. Eyes that belonged to another life. For a moment, he was eight years old again and his Mother lay dying and he felt like he had been punched in the chest, in the gut, in the heart

"Why you been fightin' with the other boys again baby?" She had asked him, smile angelic even though she had wasted away as the Cancer ate at her, he remembered still thinking she was beautiful, so fucking beautiful. He remembered wondering if God had decided to start making her an angel before taking her from them because she just fucking glowed sometimes and it hurt to look at her. It hurt to look at the beauty tainted with the death.

"…Peter?" Seven rasped uncertainly, wondering if he would be as kind as his face portrayed him to be. As kind as Ego described him to be on those late night ramblings when he told her that he had tracked down his Son from Terra and had been watching him from afar for years now unbeknownst to Peter or the Ravagers he lived with and that he was just like their Mother Meredith, the River Lily that he loved.

"You'd love him 723, really you would. You'll meet him someday too, when I come and take you away from here…." Ego had told her before asking her to sing him another song.

"I just want to hear her voice again baby girl, can you blame me? That's your voice now…...and its beautiful. You're beautiful too…...just like she was…." He would tell her, gently touching her face and staring into her eyes as though lost in them.

"…Peter?" She asked again, uneasy at the emotions that were flitting across his face. He wasn't with her here right now as he looked into her eyes, his own gaze was miles away. She watched as he slowly seemed to come back to the present and swallow thickly, clearing his throat.

"You know who I am?" He asked, smiling suddenly and reaching out tentatively to cover her small hand with his own. Seven fought hard against the instincts that were telling her to run from him; the ones that told her he was a Terran and he was over six feet tall and that he wanted to hurt her and experiment on her and cut into her and cause her pain.

"Yes. Ego told me; he has holo-images of you. Carries them with him wherever he goes," She said, her voice breaking with the effort of talking for the first time in a long time. Peter nearly smacked himself in the head for his insensitivity as he reached for another water ration pack and stabbed the straw into it. By now Rocket had stirred awake and scrambled to unbuckle her restraints and help her sit up as Peter offered her the straw and she drank gratefully, feeling as though it had been at least a year since she had drunk water.

"Take it easy, ok? That's it, slow sips." Rocket encouraged gently, shoving his pillow behind her to help her sit up before adjusting the bio beds positioning to accommodate her position better as well.

"Are you in any pain?" Peter asked as Rocket began scanning her with a tricorder noting that her pulse was good, but her lungs were still not strong enough to take her off of oxygen; and her endocrine system left a lot to be desired.

"Yes…. but I'm fine. There's always pain." Seven replied, laying back against the propped-up bed slowly. She felt exhausted, but suddenly bolted into a sitting position once more.

"Dr. Samson, is he...?"

"Woah, geez Sev, he's fine. At least I think he is, he's still beeping away over there. You can't move like that right now, Hon. Your body has to have a chance to recuperate." Peter said, squeezing her hand gently in an effort to relax her. Seven fell back against the pillows and squeezed her eyes shut once more as the room swam before her. Apparently, her Brother was correct about the state of her health.

"I'm going to give you a dose of Lectrazine again to keep your organs stabilized ok?" Rocket asked, making her squint her eyes open once more and peer sleepily in his direction.

"I'm…. I'm Rocket, by the way." He stammered slightly, unsure for the first time in his life about what the hell he should say. Seven smiled at him sleepily as he calibrated the dose of medicine she needed into the hypospray before pressing it carefully to her neck and administering it with a cold whoosh of compressed air and molecules.

"Nice to be able to put a face with the voice," She said softly; and the scent from last night, she thought, unsure of why she felt like all of the pain simply slipped away at the sight of him. Seven took in the sight of his brown and black fur sprinkled here and there with shades of gray and white, the sure way that he handled the medical supplies that he cared for her with, the warm brown of his eyes as he studied the monitors and adjusted the readings on them.

"Thanks…. you gave us a scare this morning when you decided to play resurrection Mary with Dr. Samson, that's why we had to restrain you last night? If you could try to stay in bed today that would be great." He told her with a wry smile as he got up to get a nutritional shake for her. Peter cleared his throat slightly, trying hard to ignore the flirtatious undercurrent of the conversation between his best friend and his Sister.

"Oh. I…. he saved my life several times in the facility…. I couldn't just let him die." She confessed awkwardly as she accepted the pink shake he passed her, the scent of artificial strawberry and essential vitamins and nutrients filling the air.

"I apologize in advance for the taste, but you really don't want to know what the chocolate or vanilla tastes like trust me," Rocket said as she took a sip and swallowed slowly.

"Its not the worst thing I've ever tasted," Seven replied, attempting to place it on the small table Peter wheeled over to her for her. Rocket laid a hand on her forearm to stop her and they both paused at the jolt of electricity that coursed between the two of them, flowing back and forth like a living entity that belonged to them both. Connected them both.

"Try to finish as much of that as you can before you fall asleep again," He said, letting her go to stand and replace the bags of IV fluid that were also helping her stay hydrated.

"I'm going to go up and check in with Gamora and Drax, she should probably come check on your friend here at any rate," Peter said, nodding towards the ever-unconscious Dr. Samson.

"Thank you both…...for rescuing us." Seven said sleepily, taking a last sip of the strawberry concoction before laying back onto her pillows again.

"Let Groot know that I haven't abandoned him Ok?" Rocket asked, moving over to Dr. Samson's bed and swapping his IV fluids out as well. Peter nodded, pausing to give Sevens hand another squeeze before leaving the infirmary.

"Who's Groot?" Seven asked curiously, frowning at the unusual name.

"Groot is kinda hard to explain. He's a flora colossus; you ever hear of them before?" He asked, coming to sit on the edge of her bed once more.

"Yes I have. Information on millions of subjects has been uploaded into my cortical node, and basic info on that race was a part of it," She said, an image of giant tree-like beings coming up in her mind.

"At one point, before I met your Brother and Drax and Gamora, Groot was the only friend I had in the entire universe. We traveled all over the place collecting bounties for units and going on all of these missions, he was kinda like only my muscle at first, but we became buddies after a while, you know?"

"Why would you need extra muscle? You don't really seem like you're lacking in that department much," Seven blurted, her face heating as she realized what she had just said. Rocket gave a wry smile and cleared his throat, meeting her eyes after a moment and fighting the urge to reach out and touch her again.

"Yeah well, when you're out here on missions, you can't have too much back up." He told her sincerely, letting the muscle comment slide…. For now.

"So Groot is your friend?" Seven asked, returning to the original topic post-haste.

"He was my very good friend for a long time, but he died during our battle with Ronan the Accuser and I thought that I had lost him forever, but a single viable root survived, and we planted it." Rocket swallowed the lump in his throat as memories that he had kept suppressed threatened to resurface.

"I'm so sorry, I know how hard it is. To lose friends," She said, an image of Subject 88 flashing in her mind and a twinge of sorrow for the Otter invading her thoughts.

"Thanks…. It doesn't hurt as much as it did at first. Now, Groot is just a baby and he doesn't remember anything from before. He's so innocent now, you know. He calls me Dad and I read him stories and I rock him back to sleep when he has nightmares. I'm constantly making sure he doesn't eat anything he finds on the floor and I feed him vitamin mush and force him to stay in his pot long enough to absorb water so he doesn't get sick and dry out and sometimes he drives me crazy with worry about what the hell he'll get into next, but I love him to pieces all the same and I wouldn't trade him for anything." Rocket confessed, making Seven give a soft tired laugh as she imagined Rocket chasing the tiny tree around the ship.

"So now, he's become your Son. You're a good and loyal friend then Rocket," She told him, reaching out and clasping his hand gently. Rocket nearly hummed with the contact, some of his fur actually standing on end at the indescribable sensations the simple touch brought about within him.

"What aren't you telling me? I could read your thoughts if I wanted to, but its rude and I don't want to force you if you don't want me to know," She said sincerely, knowing that there was something Rocket was avoiding for her sake.

"Well I'm definitely not giving you the secret ingredients to my barbecue sauce, so you can forget that." He said, making her chortle and shake her head.

"No, I could never ask that much of you." She agreed, smiling as their eyes locked again. Rocket touched his chest in mock relief and let out a long sigh, but in actuality he really didn't know how to tell her about the bond that they shared now. What if it would drive her away? What if she would just think of it as exchanging one type of prison for another? How do you tell a beautiful girl that she's stuck with you now?

"Rocket? Just tell me please? It can't be that bad." Seven urged, twining their fingers now in an effort to both encourage and comfort him.

"Getting you off the planet… rescuing you…. It wasn't easy. We had help from…. Well, from your Dad." Rocket began, wincing when he saw the pain in her eyes at the mention of Ego.

"He's alive then? Well, I guess I knew that he could never permanently die." She said, half relieved that he had wanted to save her, half terrified as she wondered why.

"When we got to the research facility, we had resistance from the guards obviously and we had no idea where exactly you were within the building. There were dozens of laboratories and hallways and offices where these assholes were experimenting and cataloging research and Ego was kind of feeling for you with some kind of parental connection or something and all of a sudden, that connection snapped because…. because you died. I thought that Peter was going to freaking lose it; I 've never seen him like that before. He's already lost so much, you know? His Mom, then he thought that Ego wanted to actually be his Dad, but he only wanted to use his dormant celestial powers to take over the universe, and then he lost the man who raised him; a Ravager named Yondu Udonta. So when he thought that he had lost you too he was ready to really tear Ego to pieces, I mean we all were. How could he just decide to leave you there when he decided to come looking for Peter to start the expansion? We were all very pissed off at his lack of decision-making ethics and priorities to put it lightly." Rocket intimated, pausing to gather his nerve for what he was about to tell her next.

"So, Ego brought me back? With the light?" She asked uncertainly.

"No, he was barely capable of holding the connection with you at all. Ego was still very weak from the battle with us months ago, he didn't have the ability or the strength to use the light that way and Peter really doesn't know how to use his celestial abilities yet, so he couldn't help much either. Ego said that there was a way to bring you back, but he needed my help to do it and that I had to agree willingly in order for it to work." Rocket explained, feeling like his heart was sliding into his stomach slowly. Seven frowned for a moment, her mind running through different scenarios and possibilities from the dozens of training sessions she and Ego had shared until one possibility seemed to explain both the way she had instantly connected with Rocket when she awoke and the way that he was trying to avoid her eyes now.

"He bonded our lifeforces." Seven said, the gravity of what Rocket had done for her crashing into her like a great wave, and she was suddenly speechless.

"Yeah, so lemme apologize ahead of time that I'm… well, me." Rocket said with a shrug as he studied his hands in his lap, self-conscious suddenly of his slightly coarse fur and the deep scar on his left bicep from about 4 apocalypses ago that was still mostly mottled pink where his fur had refused to grow back yet and the fact that he was a snarky sarcastic bastard that hadn't always done the nicest of things in his past and he wasn't proud of his whole life—

And then her small hand reached over to cover his own and his head snapped up to look into her eyes and she smiled a sweet genuine smile that warmed her golden-hazel eyes.

"I'm not disappointed, so you haven't anything to apologize for. Thank you…for saving me, for all of this," She said softly, gesturing to her bed and the IV poles.

"Don't thank me yet Seven. You don't really know everything about me. I…... I'm no angel, you know. I—

"Rocket… you saved my life, that makes you my angel." She murmured sleepily, the energy slipping out of her; but she kept hold of his hand. Rocket squeezed her hand softly and let her slip into sleep, strolling over to the refrigeration unit with a smile to grab another sandwich. The door to the Cargo Bay hissed open again and Gamora strode through followed by the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

"I am Groot!" The tiny tree exclaimed, running up to Rocket with pure joy written across his face.

"Hey buddy! How are you? Shh, you gotta be quiet though okay?" Rocket asked, picking him up and placing him on his shoulder; Groot's favorite way to travel.

"I am Groot," Groot whispered, balancing himself on Rocket's neck.

"I couldn't keep him away anymore; he was so determined to see you that he bit Peter's finger at breakfast while he was feeding him." Gamora whispered with a chuckle as she moved to check on Dr. Samson.

"Groot, we talked about this before, right? You can't bite Uncle Peter," Rocket admonished.

"I am Groot?" Groot asked, sounding exasperated.

"Yes, even if he says that you can't see me because I'm busy. I was helping somebody that was hurt; remember the girl we were talking about rescuing?" He asked, bringing Groot to the foot of Seven's bed and motioning for him to remain quiet. Groot's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the sleeping young woman and he nearly toppled from Rocket's shoulder in excitement.

"I am Groot! I am Groot? I am Groot?" He whispered, jumping up and down and pointing between Rocket and Seven.

"Shhh. Yes, she is just like me. No, we aren't having babies! Where in the krutaxin' universe did you get that from?" Rocket hissed quietly, moving back towards the shipping crate that was serving as a table where his neglected sandwich lay waiting for him.

"I am Groot." Groot said matter of factly.

"He what? Gamora, What the Hell?" Rocket said quietly.

"I told Peter that we should have waited for you to decide how to explain the situation to Groot, but you know how easily he gives in to Groot, he can't ever tell him no." Gamora replied, replacing the blanket covering Dr. Samson and making her way to the steel sink to wash her hands.

"So Pete's idea of explaining this to my Son is by saying Seven and I are married?" He asked incredulously, head in his hands.

"I am Groot?" Groot asked, looking confused.

"Well, we are kind of together. We have this life-bond-thing between us and—"

Rocket sighed and shrugged. He guessed that there was no better way of explaining this to Groot in a way that would help him understand.

"Yeah, we are kind of married. But its really complicated okay Bud? What Seven and I are to each other is kinda special. Its hard to explain…." Rocket said hesitantly.

"I am Groot?" (Do you love her?)

Gamora looked up suddenly from the med crate she had been rummaging in for more Lectrazine and caught Rocket's eye. Rocket swallowed, glancing between Gamora and his Son, tail twitching anxiously as he hesitated, searching his heart and knowing that The Bond had changed both of their lives completely; just as Ego had warned that it would.

"Yeah. I do love her…. but I don't know how she feels about me. Jesus, we just got introduced to each other a few minutes ago and she's been through hell and she needs time to heal and we need time to get to know each other," Rocket said, speaking to Both Groot and Gamora. Groot and Gamora smiled simultaneously; Gamora refilling her hypospray for later use and Groot looking back at Seven from across the Cargo Bay.

"I am Groot?" (Can I call her Mom?)

Rocket choked on the bite of sandwich he had just bitten into, eyes watering as he swallowed it a bit too soon.

"Not yet Groot! Maybe eventually, okay? Give it some time. Geez, let her meet you first!" Rocket exclaimed, shaking his head at the persistent sapling.

Peter sat at the Helm, gazing at the stars that were whipping past the Milano as he thought about his Sister resting in the cargo bay a short distance below. He looked over at one of Yondu's troll figures and snatched it up, studying the pinched little face and the orange puff of hair. Peter had given it to the late Centaurian as a birthday gift when he was ten and Yondu had always kept it on his console; even when they fought, even after Peter had left the Ravagers and went off on his own. Peter sighed sadly as Kraglin Obfonteri popped into his head next and Peter wondered how Yondu's faithful lover and companion was holding up after all these months. Kraglin had only contacted Peter twice since Yondu's death and both communiques had been brief and completely on a professional basis, but Peter had noticed the hollowness of his gaze, the way he couldn't quite meet Peter's eyes, and the way his tone was clipped and brusque; leaving no room for any friendly banter between them.

He blames me for Yondu's death.

I blame me for Yondu's death…...

"Peter?" Gamora asked softly, still making Peter jump slightly in his seat as she interrupted the dark turn of his thoughts.

Peter noticed the wetness on his face for the first time and quickly swiped it away before he turned to acknowledge her. If Gamora noticed the redness of his eyes or the haunted look on his face, she didn't mention it.

"I brought you some more coffee. Drax has been off duty for eight hours or so now, he said that he was coming up here to take the helm back." She said, laying a hand on the Terrans shoulder gently as she passed him the thermos of aromatic dark roast.

"Gam, I have to give you and Drax a break at some point too. Have you even slept in the last 48 hours?" He asked, taking a deep swig of coffee as she smiled at him softly.

"You know I only need to rest once every 80 hours or so. Besides, maybe we could watch one of those old Terran movies you keep trying to talk me into? We have that…puffcorn that you're so fond of eating?" Gamora asked, certain that she had mislabeled the snack in question when Peter smirked up at her.

"Popcorn Gams. Are you asking me out?" He asked her, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"No, I'm asking you in. We can't exactly leave the ship right now, so this doesn't count." Gamora corrected slyly.

"Oh, I see. So, this isn't a date then. I must say that this will be a new experience…. I've never been asked in before. What exactly am I getting myself into here if I say Yes?" He asked her, feigning cautiousness.

"It entails some lounging around while cramming down snacks that are really bad for us while watching some barely entertaining Terran acting and perhaps eventually consuming some alcohol before passing out due to a mixture of boredom and exhaustion from flying this ship through 70 more jumps," She said, shrugging.

"Sounds awesome, I'm in," Peter said, rising to his feet and following Gamora down the steps leading into the ships living areas and bedrooms.

Ten minutes later, a large bowl of popcorn sat in front of them on a small table and a scary movie was playing on the holo-projector. Peter was trying to pay attention to the movie and live in the moment, but his thoughts were drifting into different directions again as they had been a few moments ago on the bridge. Gamora glanced over at the daydreaming Terran she had begun having very complex feelings for and sighed. This just wouldn't do. Peter had been too tense and depressed of late, and it was beginning to worry her. Her idea of watching a movie with him in the quiet solitude of his quarters wasn't having the effect she thought that it would and she had toyed with the idea of this being an opportunity to get closer to Peter and comfort him at the same time, but it appeared that she was going to have to steer the evening in that direction herself, much to her own nervous misgivings. Gamora wasn't a stranger to the idea of sex or to how one went about having sex. She had just never had sex herself. Living the life of an assassin and doing Thanos' bidding had left her no time to think of anything else other than her own survival and she had never had any inclination to bed any of his associates either, not that she hadn't had any offers; the offers she had had were just not to her liking and made her cringe more than they made her swoon. She therefore found herself in much more of a conundrum than she had normally faced while sitting here studying Peter Quill's handsome, yet troubled face. Gamora steeled her nerves and slowly edged closer to him on the small sofa, heart beating faster than usual as she glanced over at him to see if her closer vicinity would bring about any change in his demeanor and she let out a breath that she had been holding as she realized he hadn't registered anything yet. What to do next? Damn, what now? Take his hand? Just pounce on him and kiss him? Why am I so bad at initiating this? I have snapped necks with a single swift kick, but this…...intimacy with Peter is going to be the one thing that I can't accomplish? She reached over tentatively and turned his face towards her gently, watching as His eyes seemed to come back to focus on her from far away. He kept completely still as she studied him for a moment; her eyes roaming the contours of his face before she inched closer, closing the distance between them as she joined her lips with his own. She felt Peter's shocked inhale through his nose before he turned his body towards her, holding her waist with one hand and running a shaky hand through her hair with the other. Gamora felt her heart pound even faster as he deepened the kiss and she tasted him for the first time, running her tongue over his own and letting out a soft moan as she shoved his leather jacket over his shoulder, wanting to feel more of him with her hands. Peter shrugged the Ravager garment off of himself completely then, his grip on the back of her head becoming desperate as he drank her in, his other hand feeling the strong pulse of her slender neck as it settled at the front of her throat. There, her life force beat steady; the tribal drum of it setting his desire aflame anew as he gripped her tighter, dragging a hand down the trail of her spine and pulling her closer until she was kneeling on the sofa, her hardening nipples pressed firmly into his chest, her long hair forming a curtain on either side of his face. Peter slowly inched under her blouse, fingers exploring the new territory of soft emerald skin and the fine contours of one hip bone. When he felt the edge of her satin and lace bra under his fingertips, he halted; breaking the kiss slowly and running the tip of his nose along her cheek, planting soft kisses along her jaw and slowly opening his eyes to meet her own. His own desire and love mirrored there in her dark and swirling depths and he knew then that he was lost to any other woman in the universe ever again.

"Peter please…." She murmured shakily, tugging at his t-shirt and removing it partially from his belt and the waist of his jeans, wanting all of him and everything he was in that moment. His ocean azure eyes met hers and he swallowed, trying to rein himself in a bit. He had wanted Gamora for so long now that it had become a nearly painful yearning clawing at his insides.

"Gamora…. I just…. are you sure? I love you so much that I want this to ruin anything between us." He winced inwardly at the confession he had just made to this beautiful and amazing woman that had stolen his heart so long ago. Gamora smiled in an uncharacteristically coy shyness, her hand coming to cup Peter's cheek as she looked into his eyes. She didn't want him to see any doubt in her.

"Peter, do you honestly think that I could want this from anyone else? You have to know the way that I feel about you…...after all of this time. Everything that we have faced together…." She breathed, leaning forward to kiss him again. But he placed a hand on her upper arm, gripping the defined wiry muscle beneath the fabric of the shirt he desperately wanted to tear off of her.

"What are you saying?" He whispered, swallowing deeply again, his eyes gazing questioningly into her own. He had wanted her to say what he thought that she was going to say for so long now that he barely believed that he would ever hear the words from her lips. Lips that were now swollen from his attentions. Lips that he never wanted to stop kissing for as long as he lived.

"Peter…... I'm saying that I love you. I'm just…" Gamora wanted to die as tears gushed from her eyes and she inhaled shakily, looking down at her hands pressed against his chest.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked her, frowning with concern as he thumbed the tears from her cheeks and bringing her eyes up to meet his once more.

"I don't know what's wrong with me; I'm afraid and I am never afraid of anything. I…" Gamora broke off, shaking her head and not meeting his gaze again.

"Gam, whatever it is, you can tell me. It's okay, I promise." He assured her gently, wondering what could possibly make her normally calm and collected façade fall.

"I don't want you to use me, I don't want to be another one-night stand. I don't want this to just be…. convenient for you because we're both here." She confessed in a rush, trying in vain to hold back her tears, her emotions running high and getting the better of her. Peter blanched, shocked that she thought that that was what this was.

"Gamora, that's not what this is about. I know that I'm no Saint when it comes to my past relationships and there has been a few that were built on convenience, but you gotta know that this is different. From the moment we first met, there was…... God, this is gonna sound cheesy and rehearsed; but the moment that I first met you, there was something different between us, something that I've never had before with anyone else." Peter said truthfully, baring his soul to her in hopes that she would realize what she meant to him.

"Peter, when we first met, I was kicking your ass and stealing your Orb," She laughed softly, remembering the damage they had dealt one another. Peter snorted and shook his head, his eyes alight with his own memories of that day on Xandar so long ago.

"Well okay, maybe not the instant we met, but you know what I mean." He said awkwardly, his face reddening slightly, half embarrassed and half admirable that the woman he loved had bested him in a fight so easily. Gamora leaned forward once more and Peter allowed her lips to brush his before he softly deepened the kiss, tasting her once more and coaxing her to open up to him, inhaling deeply again in pleasure as their tongues collided once more. This time, Gamora slid her hands under his t-shirt to explore the muscular planes of chest and abdomen, feeling the soft smattering of hair there and threading her fingers into it gently; one of her fingernails scraping against his nipple making him hiss and pull her in closer as he began to trail open-mouthed kisses from her throat down to her collarbone, making her shudder with pleasure at the new sensations he was introducing her to. Gamora moaned as she felt his thumb explore her left breast while his mouth gently teased the right through her blouse, gasping at the feeling of the heat of his mouth on her. She was lost to the sensations he was giving her with his hands and mouth as he kneaded her breasts, working his way under her blouse and caressing her through the satin and lace now. Peter saw white for a moment when Gamora, lost to her passion and following her instincts alone, straddled his lap and ground herself onto his erection, making his heart skip a beat and causing a deep-throated groan to rumble in his chest. He cupped her face in both hands and eased her away again, causing a frustrated whimper to escape her as she opened her eyes to meet his own.

"Not on the couch. Let's go to my bed if you're really sure about this, Okay?" He asked her and she nodded, standing up and allowing him to rise and lead her to his bedroom. Gamora smiled as she took in the sight of a holo-image of the entire team standing together in front of the Milano parked in the docking bay on Xandar on his nightstand before she sank down onto his blue bedspread, watching as he removed his boots and socks and tugged his jeans off; standing before her clad only in his boxer briefs and t-shirt. Peter approached the bed slowly, placing his hands on her shoulders and coaxing her to lay back before he took one of her legs in his hands. He methodically unlaced her black boot pulling it from her leg slowly as he bent and kissed her bared calf, tossing it to the ground and repeating this with the other. Gamora moved to undo the button and zipper of her pants, but Peter stopped her and placed her hand back at her side.

"Just relax and let me take over from here, hm?" He said, molten desire dancing in his eyes as he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and slowly peeled them away, revealing black satin and lace panties as he did so. Gamora reached up and tugged him down to her, moaning as their lips collided again and a battle of tongue and teeth ensued, each nipping, teething, and tasting the other as their hands continued to explore new flesh. Peter worked his way down her throat once more to her clavicle, then he was up on his hands and knees once again as he whipped her shirt off of her, finally revealing a black satin and lace bra that he made quick work of removing as well to reveal supple emerald breasts tipped with verdant nipples. Gamora arched her back and thrust forward as he took one verdant peak into his warm mouth while gently tugging and rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger, making her mewl in surprised pleasure. She could feel his teeth gently scrape her pebbled flesh and she trembled as her nether muscles clenched and unclenched with want and desire; a foreign and overwhelming feeling tearing its way through her, making her moan his name longingly. Peter took his time with her soft and ample breasts, savoring the taste of each dusky verdant peak thoroughly until Gamora was pleading with him for something she didn't even fully know or understand. He began to kiss his way down her stomach, taking his time to nip and suckle until he was eye level with her panties, hooking his fingers beneath the elastic and baring the last of her hidden flesh to his hungry gaze; he coaxed her legs apart and Gamora froze, frowning down at him as he began planting soft kisses on her inner thighs and placed her legs over his shoulders.

"Peter?" She breathed, looking down at him through her pleasured daze with confusion. Peter halted his ministrations and met her eyes.

"Are you okay? Do you want to stop?" He asked, putting the control back into her hands momentarily. He wanted this to be her choice completely.

"What are you doing?" She asked shakily, frowning in confusion and frustration. Part of her wanted something from him that she couldn't entirely name, while another part of her was beginning to wonder about his methods, though everything that he had done so far had felt amazing. Peter frowned as a thought formed in his desire-fogged brain and his eyes widened fractionally.

"Have…have you never done this before?" He asked her suddenly, shock plain in his tone. Gamora shook her head, suddenly avoiding his eyes and feeling out of her depth.

Well fuck…... Peter thought, both surprised and honored that he was going to be her first (and last if he had anything to say about it.) He gently palmed her breasts again, kneading and massaging until she returned to her previous blissful state, moaning for him and pleading with him once again. Peter slowly laved his tongue against her outer labia, earning another heated moan from the woman beneath him. He could feel her muscular thighs tense and relax with pleasure, spurring him on to finally enter and coax her open with his tongue, rewarded with a keening cry as he found her clitoris and began swirling patterns and shapes over and around it, enjoying the spicy scent and flavor of her as she mewled and moaned above him. He began making wider and wider swipes until he pushed his tongue into her tight entrance, licking and suckling until he found the small nubbin he had been seeking and holding her hips down as she attempted to buck when his tongue began tapping her g-spot. Gamora was sobbing his name now, her juices flooding his mouth as he massaged her clitoris with his thumbs, his tongue coming up to tap and lave the bundle of nerves every few seconds and then diving back into her tight warmth to tempt her g-spot again. Peter upped the ante further when he started undulating his head in time with her thrusts and undulations, his tongue continuing to drive her to new heights of pleasure along with his fingers massaging her bundle of nerves. Gamora was unable to form cohesive words or thoughts as she felt her mounting pleasure build and build and finally explode, making her scream his name and dig her nails into the blanket below them, sobbing tears of pleasure as she came hard and Peter swallowed as much of her as he could; like a man in the dessert dying of thirst.

"Oh God! Peter!" She cried again, trembling with the unfamiliar aftershocks of orgasm. Peter kissed his way back up her body, tossing his shirt off and wiggling out of his boxer briefs while she came down slightly from her orgasmic high. Gamora opened her eyes again and was met with the breathtaking sight of the nude body of the man she loved. She studied the contours of muscle, the soft and the rigid, and finally the turgid flesh between his legs, his erection standing long and thick and proud. Gamora reached out and took him in her hands, reveling in the sharp intake of breath he took as she tentatively explored the velvet hardness; wondering how in the Galaxy they were going to fit together. Peter seemed to sense her sudden doubt as he gently pushed her back down to lay on her back as he climbed over her, careful to not crush her with his weight as he kissed her lips passionately; making her moan when she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. He began tugging her nipples back into their former hardened state as he fingered her clitoris once again, making her gasp and flood with wetness once more. Peter distracted her with kisses and nips and soft caresses while he pulled a jar of lubrication from the drawer of his nightstand, rubbing a copious amount along his shaft before reaching between them and gently penetrating her with a slickened finger, wincing as he felt just how tight she was and hoping that he didn't hurt her too much. Peter moved above her then, nipping her lips and kneading her breasts before nudging his shaft gently at her opening, feeling relieved when Gamora spread her legs and undulated beneath him again. He met her gaze once more; a question deep in his eyes that told her that she didn't have to do this, that they could wait, that he loved her and would do anything for her. Gamora smiled softly, nodding gently as she pulled him down for a kiss and he pressed forward, the tightness of her engulfing the head of his shaft like a glove. He felt her tense and he paused, letting her adjust.

"Shhh, relax your muscles for me Hon, it's okay. It just hurts for a minute, I swear." He assured her before distracting her again, kneading her breasts and kissing her neck to sooth her. Gamora undulated her hips once more and hissed as she felt him inch forward a bit more, stretching her seemingly impossibly wider.

"Oh Peter, please… oh God…" She whispered, moaning as the pain-pleasure overtook her senses and she thrust upward blindly, taking all of him in at once. Peter took hold of her hips and began thrusting deeper and deeper, feeling her muscles around him squeezing him tightly as he rocked her. Gamora cried out as the pain dispelled completely and an intense and mind-boggling pleasure began to make itself known.

"Gamora, I love you…. God, I need you, love you so much." He gasped, changing the angle he was entering her at and thrusting desperately into that spot inside of her that made her see sparks. He was losing himself to her warm velvet quim and Gamora could no longer think, only feel.

"Harder, Peter, Harder!" She growled into his neck as they rocked.

Peter held her legs apart farther and higher as he began pounding into her roughly, a wild abandon taking over both of their reasoning capabilities as he pounded her further and further into the mattress, the bed skidding back and forth on the floor with every thrust in the thankfully soundproof quarters. Gamora's muscles tightened even further around him and they both cried out as he felt her contract violently, her whole body spasming in cadence with her inner muscles as she came hard; milking at his shaft until he exploded within her, painting her walls white with the evidence of his pleasure. Gamora held him to her breasts, refusing to let go when he made to move off of her for fear that he was hurting her with his weight.

"Stay," She murmured softly as sleep claimed them both.


	2. Part 2

Chapter 13: The Connection Part 4

Hello all!! I am so excited to continue to share this story with my Fanfic family   
Kersync: Thank you for your review of the last chapter, and I am getting to that, patience is a virtue and I promise that it’ll be worth the wait! In the meantime, enjoy the Starmora goodness filling your veins ;)   
I am continuing to evolve the relationship between Seven and Rocket which takes time. Seven and Rocket are the main pairing for this particular fic, followed closely by Peter/Gamora, and a bit of Kraglin/?  
More Starmora to come as well as other pairings (Eventual Drax/Mantis, Dr. Samson/Irani Rael, Kraglin/(it’s a surprise and I’m not gonna blow it). Please continue to feed the review bunny, she’s always hungry and starved for attention.

Rocket pulled his favorite toolbox closer and began pulling out what he needed to repair and hopefully upgrade the busted Data pad laying on the makeshift table in front of him. He was beginning to work on smaller projects that he usually put aside to work on bigger issues that cropped up on the ship during intergalactic travel, but now that he was keeping an eye on Seven in their little Cargo/Sick Bay as she recovered, he had time to work on the smaller backlogged repairs he had been neglecting. Groot looked on in rapt attention as Rocket carefully pried off the metallic coverings and removed and discarded the cracked screen; exposing the intricate wiring and various layers of data chips and tiny isolinear rods. Data pads seemed to be frequent casualties on their missions and Rocket had a few ideas about reinforcing the glass screens as well as the casing that housed the multifunctional device. On a separate (and fully functioning) data pad; Rocket drew up the current schematics of the device and began to tweak and overwrite the programming to his own specifications, becoming absorbed in his work. Groot lost interest as soon as Rocket stopped taking the device apart and went back to playing with a toy car and a plastic dinosaur; relics of Peter’s childhood that he had passed down lovingly to the tiny tree child. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Across the Cargo Bay Seven twitched slightly in her sleep, her face becoming pinched as her subconscious took her away from the present and transported her unmercifully back to Negamite Prime. Seven felt cold and stiff in her sleep suddenly, causing her to turn over in a vain attempt to find a softer and warmer spot, but the pain in her muscles was agonizing as it arced down and across the nerves in her spine. Seven felt herself spasm uncontrollably suddenly and as she jerked awake, she found herself back in her old cell block, staring at the sleeping form of her friend Subject 88 in the cell across from her. The neon lighting overhead made the wires and bits of exposed metal along her skull glisten when it caught the light as she breathed in and out like a macabre headdress. Seven toppled out of bed, kicking the thin laboratory-issued blanket away from her and staring around herself with wild eyes, blinking and shaking her head as though expecting the scenery to change back to the Cargo Bay of the Milano.   
Oh God, no! I dreamt it all….  
The rescue, saving Dr. Samson, Peter……. Rocket.   
Seven fell to her knees and wretched, emptying the meagre contents of her stomach onto the unforgiving cement floor below her; causing yet another spasm to shake her body and another jolt of pain to lance down her back; so severe that she bit her tongue and drew blood.  
“Did you have another Nightmare, 723?” A sadistically gleeful voice asked from behind her, chilling her further than her cell ever could. Seven swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear.  
Pleasedonthurtme…..Pleasedonthurtme…..Pleasedont---  
A scream ripped from her throat and she fell painfully to her knees simultaneously as Dr. Ambron clicked the control in his hand again and she arched spasmodically off the floor, her teeth clenching as her nerves burned white-hot and her surrounding muscles smoldered with the aftershocks it left in its wake. Seven tasted copper and bile, her eyes burning from a mixture of tears and sweat. Dr. Ambron stopped the torture just as fast as he started it, letting her catch her breath as he slowly strolled over to her cell; the sharp click of his boots drawing nearer until they halted in her line of sight. Seven struggled to focus her vision on the shined black boots in front of her or on the neon light above her or even on the bars of her cell; but everything seemed to move and change shape, kaleidoscopic and interchangeable until she wretched again and squeezed her eyes shut; vowing not to open them anymore.  
“Did you think they had come for you 723? None of them are real!!! It was all just a test; and you failed miserably. You never even attempted to gain control of the Milano and return to Negamite Prime like you were ordered to do if anyone ever took you hostage. Pathetic really, your piss-poor attitude towards your superiors. Hence—” And he held up the remote with a smile, sociopathic eyes alight as he pressed the button again.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Rocket had dropped his flux-coupler with the first piercing scream that had echoed across the cargo bay, leaping out of his seat and drawing a compact blaster from his belt, he made his way to her side expecting to see a possible intruder on board (though that was impossible when the Milano travelled with her shields raised 90% of the time) wincing when he saw that she had becoming twisted and tangled in her sheet and her IV tubing, he re-pocketed his weapon and tapped his comm watch, hailing Peter and Gamora on the bridge.  
“Rocket to Quill and Gamora,” He called, trying to hold Seven down to no avail as she tore her PIC line out, splattering his face with blood.  
“Go ahead Rocket,” Peter replied tensely, knowing that something must be going on with Seven if he was hailing both of them.  
“I need assist, she’s having an episode like I told you guys she would.” He growled, straining against her strength and matching it with his own, holding her in place as she fought him. Peter stumbled the rest of the way down the steps that lead them off the bridge when he heard a blood-curdling shriek echoing from both the open comm and from behind the cargo bay doors. Drax flew passed them as he headed in the opposite direction to take the bridge, his normally impassive face lined with grim concern as the screams continued, swelling in power and velocity. Peter and Gamora raced through the Cargo Bay doors, running to aide Rocket in his attempt to keep Seven from throwing them both to the floor as another spasm hit her, wracking her lithe form off of the mattress entirely and nearly managing to unseat him in the process. Peter got a good grip on her shoulders and held her upper body as still as he could, but her legs still kicked out, missing Gamora by centimeters.  
“There’s blood coming from her mouth!” Peter ground out nervously, holding his Sister as still as he could and marveling at her strength as Gamora finally dosed her with a mild sedative in an attempt to calm her. Rocket scanned her with a tricorder, searching for possible internal injury when his toolbox flew off of the table and smashed into the bulkhead opposite her bio bed.   
“That’ll be the telekinetic ability Nova Prime was talkin about,” Rocket shouted over another screech as a strong spasm rocked her body and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, showing white.  
“Shit! Rocket, what the hell is happening?!” Peter gasped as Rocket shoved the Terran away and held Seven as closely as he could, shoving her nose into the scruff of his neck where his scent was the strongest. Gamora pressed a hypospray into the top of her spine; delivering a strong dose of anti-seizure medication as Rocket closed his eyes, the bond that bound them together guiding him as he wrapped his tail around her and held on tighter.  
“Come back to me…...” Rocket thought, seeing a violet light glowing dimly in his subconscious; a deep primal instinct telling him that the light was her. He jerked slightly, his pupils dilating as he felt his mind connect to hers and suddenly her movements slowed, the spasms dying down to smaller twitches.  
“He’s hurting me! He’s hurting me and he won’t stop! You aren’t real! You’re something he made up and you’re not real and I’m alone….” She gasped via their telepathic connection, panic tightening her chest. Rocket rubbed his cheek across her face, spreading his scent and marking her in an arcane and primal ritual in an attempt to bring her out of her episode and let her know that he was there and that he was real, and he was trying to help her.  
“Seven…. open your eyes and look at me.” Rocket urged softly, keeping his thoughts calm and sure. Gamora backed away from the bed, dragging Peter with her as a violet aura surrounded the couple on the bed with a soft glow. Sevens eyes fluttered as she struggled to surface from the seizure and from the nightmare, she caught Rockets scent and gasped softly, clinging to the hope that he was real; that he was there with her somehow.   
“Where……where are you?” Seven asked via their link, disoriented when she heard the faint laughter of Dr. Ambron echoing in her mind again, skittering around the edges of the darkness that was her subconscious mixed with the erratic pingpingpingping of the bio beds monitors. Rocket shifted his tail from under her legs and ran it slowly up and then down her spine through the fabric of her laboratory fatigues. He closed his eyes again, seeing the violet orb in his minds eye grow a bit brighter with his encouraging touches and thoughts. He nuzzled his cheek into her neck once more; mixing their unique scents together, patiently waiting for her to surface and rejoin them in the present.  
“I’m gonna take you somewhere else on the ship, ok? If you wake up, you can meet Groot. You’re not alone anymore………it’s okay. Nobody’s gonna hurt you here……...Nobody is ever going to hurt you again….” He assured her, the violet aura becoming visibly brighter right before Peter’s and Gamora’s eyes, golden and silver around the edges as Rockets new instincts took over. The Celestial bond they shared creating new synapses in his mind, new strands in his DNA coding, altering his base instincts and linking him to Seven on levels he couldn’t have comprehended before. Seven lay very still for a moment before gasping and shuddering, her eyes fluttering open as Rocket brushed the long silvery-white hair from her face slowly, giving her a moment to realize where she was as their eyes met.  
Peter came forward slowly, relieved that his Sister was awake and the apparent seizure she had had was over.  
“Seven? Are you okay?” He asked softly, reaching for her hand. Her eyes snapped away from Rockets and focused on Peter’s form, pupils dilating as she scrambled away, jerking from Rockets grip to land painfully on the floor below.  
“Seven! Honey, it’s okay.” Peter came around the side of the bio bed, his hands raised in front of him; trying to show her that he wasn’t going to hurt her. Rocket leapt off the bed and stood between them as Seven made to rise to her feet, but fell to the floor once more, blood from the wound where her PIC line used to be flowing down her arm and onto the floor, making her slip and slide in it when she scurried backwards to hide beneath Dr. Samson’s bio bed. Seven heaved a half-animalistic panicked cry, the lights around the cargo bay flickered before five of them exploded out, bits of plastic, glass, and wire flying.   
“Pete back off, back off, back off!” Rocket growled, hand out to block his Terran friend from venturing any closer to his Mate. Gamora came forward once more, tugging Peter back. Sevens eyes were wide and unfocused as she tucked herself as far away from her Brother as she could, her ears flattened to her head in fear, she curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her tail around herself in an effort towards protection. She buried her face in her arms and sobbed anew, shaking in fear and confusion.   
“Seven…” Peter whispered, his heart breaking when their eyes met, and he saw the shear terror she must have felt mirrored there; and that fear was of him. She was looking at him like he was leveling a blaster set to kill at her.   
“Pete, she needs time.” Rocket murmured, a pleading look in his eyes. For the first time in their acquaintance; Rocket looked incredibly sorry for him. Peter’s face fell and he turned to stride out of the cargo bay just as fast as he had entered it. Gamora trailed behind him just as quickly, the doors hissing shut behind them with finality. Rocket swallowed thickly, knowing that Peter was hurting just as bad as his Mate was right now. He could feel the fear tangibly emanating from under the comatose Dr. Samson’s bio bed where she was still curled into a ball; eyes squeezed shut. Rocket approached slowly, laying an absorbent disposable surgical mat over the mess of blood on the floor mixed with stray bits of fur and snatching a clean blanket from a shelf nearby. He ducked beneath the bio bed and slowly reached out to touch Sevens hand in the semi-darkness, breathing a sigh of relief when she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck again; sobs wracking her tiny frame.  
“It’s okay Sev. I’m right here, alright?” He assured her, wrapping the blanket snugly around her in an effort to make her feel safer.   
“I want to show you something, okay? I think you need a break from all these machines and hospital noises,” He told her softly, lifting her form easily and carrying her out from under the bio bed. Rocket was grateful when he met no resistance from her as he exited the cargo bay, grabbing a small med kit on his way out. Seven’s arms wrapped wound his neck out of instinct, but she was otherwise boneless, not attempting to resist as her exhaustion resurfaced. The combined seizure and nightmare taking its toll on her from within. Rocket maneuvered through the halls expertly, passing several different doors and viewports before the doors to his quarters hissed open to admit them and he carefully made his way to the bathroom, setting her onto the stool he kept handy in the room for hard to reach items. Seven seemed reluctant to let him go at first but acquiesced when she realized that they were alone. She took in her surroundings as Rocket busied himself with the med kit, opening it and laying it flat on the copper-colored vanity. Seven noted the large copper tub and the ornate vanity/sink combo and lastly the toilet that Rocket shut the lid on before seating himself there and pulling her stool closer to him.   
“Lemme see your arm Sweetheart,” He said, reaching out slowly to pull the blanket partially open and wincing inwardly when he saw the bloody mess it had been concealing from view. Seven made no movement to stop him or help him, she simply sat there studying his eyes and the fur on his face where her blood had splashed earlier.  
“I just want to close that wound from the PIC line first and then we can get you cleaned up,” He told her softly, his movements sure and steady as he turned on the dermal regenerator and began to run it over her newest injury.   
“You know, we gotta stop meeting like this,” He said, giving her his signature soft crooked smile. Seven blinked and hesitantly nodded, the faintest of smiles reaching her own lips. Seven stared at the grey-blue floor for a moment before glancing up at the large copper tub again. Rocket took in her line of sight and cleared his throat, tail twitching slightly before he asked her a question, he already knew the answer to.  
“Do you want me to ask Gamora to help you with a bath?”   
Seven’s eyes returned to his own and he saw the fear and hesitation there.  
“She aint so bad. She can be a little bitchy, but she’s really a nice person once you get to know her.” He said, powering down the dermal regenerator and setting it back into the med kit. Seven took her arm back and shrank into the folds of the blanket again, clearly closing herself off from his suggestion.   
Fuck-shit, Shit-fuck…... Rocket thought, knowing that Seven wanted him to help her; she didn’t feel safe around anyone else right now. Rocket sighed inwardly as he snapped the med kit shut and set it aside.   
“Okay, I guess you want …… my help then. Let me just grab some supplies from the other room and I’ll run your bath in the meantime.” Rocket said, reaching past her to turn on the taps and add some of his own shower gel to the water. It had taken Rocket a solid six months to come up with a rapid evaporation system when it came to the plumbing in the tubs and sinks in their quarters and getting rid of used water quickly, but it had been well worth it. The Guardians of the Galaxy did enjoy to pamper themselves a bit when it came to getting cleaned up after their epic battles. Drax particularly had spoken of lavish baths and steam rooms back on his home world where warriors’ wives would bathe and massage them after they had won a battle.  
“Yeah, Mantis don’t know what she’s getting herself into with that one…...” Rocket muttered as he made his way towards his bedroom and halted when he saw the large duffel bag Dr. Samson had indicated as Seven’s belongings during the rescue sitting on his brown sofa. He shrugged, unzipping the bulging bag and coming face to face with clothes that looked like they had never been worn, data pads, weapons tailored to Seven’s smaller size and flarg knew what else because he hadn’t the time to look right now. He sorted through the clothes looking for something comfortable and feeling his face heat up as his hands brushed over several silky bras and panties that were all varying shades of purple. The pajamas were in varying shades of purple, even the tailored fatigues and leathers were black trimmed with deep plum. So, purple is her favorite color then… He filed that bit of info away for later as he gathered a pajama top and bottom in a shade of lilac and hesitated; hovering over the underwear, his tail twitching in nervous agitation. Godfuckdamn she’s gonna be the death of me…... He thought as he grabbed a matching set of those too and a pair of socks as he whipped the zipper shut. Rocket made a beeline for his bedroom to grab some clean towels before heading back to the bathroom and taking a steeling breath before entering and setting the clothes and towels on the vanity. Seven had remained where he had left her curled on the stool in her blanket, watching as the water mixed with the shower gel and made bubbles on the surface of the water. Rocket reached passed her to shut off the taps and check the water temp to make sure it wasn’t going to scald or freeze her. Seven slowly reached out and picked up the rubber duck that lived on the back of the tub, studying it curiously.   
“Pete and I picked that up for Groot; he has a boat and a whale somewhere too that Drax gave him for his birthday last year, but he’s been sleeping with them for the past couple weeks now, so they don’t live in the bathroom anymore for the time being,” He told her, a fond smile flitting across his face at his Boys antics. Seven smiled too, carefully replacing the toy on the back of the tub once more. Rocket hesitated before reaching for Seven and slowly helping her stand, dropping the blanket to the floor at their feet. Seven teetered slightly as a wave of light-headedness swam over her, making her head spin as Rocket held her for a moment, supporting her against his taller and wider frame. Rocket knew it would be better to just get her undressed quickly and get her in the bath before she fainted; so he helped her out of her blood-crusted fatigues as fast as he was able to without dropping her, keeping his eyes on her face the entire time in an attempt to be a gentleman as much as possible. When he had removed the last of her clothes, he picked her up once more and gently placed her in the bath offering her a washcloth and the bottle of shower gel as well as an unopened bottle of cleansing conditioner that Pete had given him as a gag gift a few years ago during some dumb Terran holiday about a tree and a fat red guy that Rocket couldn’t even recall the name of now.   
“I’m just going to clean up quickly in the sonic shower stall here,” He said, indicating the small narrow stall beside the tub made of black opaque glass. Seven nodded as she laid back to soak her fur, secretly enjoying the earth and pine scent of Rocket’s shower gel in the water and bubbles surrounding her.  
“I’m sorry that I…… about the blood,” She said so softly that he may have missed it entirely without the enhanced hearing he had. Rocket smirked and shook his head as he dug a pair of his own pajamas out of a drawer in the vanity/sink.  
“I’ve been covered in worse,” He said, hanging the pajamas in the stall and stepping in, shutting the door and laying his head against it. Try as he had to not be a pervert and peek, he had gotten a few glimpses of Seven that had left him with light-headedness of his own. Rocket stripped out of his own blood soiled clothes and tossed them to the floor of the stall kicking them away when he realized that he had the beginnings of an erection and setting the temp of the ultrasonic pulses to a much colder temp than he was used to. Down boy, she’s not ready for that much bonding yet……... Rocket chided himself, sighing happily as the sonic pulses beat gently into his coat, dissolving all the blood and muck and grime from the passed couple of days. 

Twenty minutes later Rocket dressed and stepped out of the stall, seeing that Seven was ready to climb out of her bath as well. He took the largest towel and wrapped her into it securely, sitting her down on the lid of the toilet while he flicked some switches hidden behind a panel on the side of the tub, causing the used bathwater to begin its rapid-evap process. He then made his way back to the sonic stall and programmed a drying cycle into it, setting the stool inside it for her to sit on while her fur dried thoroughly. When seven was seated and the door was shut, she dropped the towel on the floor of the stall and leaned her head against the door. How the hell was she supposed to function around this man? Her Mate, her equal? How was it possible that her entire world was slowly narrowing to 4’, 9” of muscle, fur, and a baritone voice that made her stomach feel fluttery? A pang of guilt hit her suddenly when she thought about Peter and how she had behaved earlier. Seven only recalled flashes of fear and panic and pain, but there was a clear image of his devastated face in her memory as she had been in the throws of her episode that brought tears to her eyes. She definitely owed him an apology…...  
When her fur was mercifully dried and fluffed, she began to dress carefully, trying to not bother Rocket for assistance, though she knew he stood nearby at the sink brushing his teeth if she needed him. It took her longer trying to close her bra with the weakness in her muscles in her arms; and she had tried her telekinesis to no avail, having used up her energy during her episode earlier. She finally ended up stuffing it into her pocket to deal with later and made to step out of the stall, teetering as she clung to the door of the stall as the room lurched under her. Rocket caught her instantly and lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her to the living room and setting her carefully down on the sofa.  
“I swear I’ll learn to walk again soon so I won’t have to put you through all of this. I’m so sorry,” She said, feeling mortified that he was saddled with her in this condition.   
“Are you serious? I got guns that weigh twice what you do Sweetheart! Besides, I uh…... can’t say being this close to you is terrible.” He confessed softly, seating himself next to her and hoping that she wasn’t going to barf at his awkward flirtations, or worse; laugh. I gotta be outta my flargin mind. She can’t possibly be attracted to me. Have you looked in a mirror lately ya d’ast moron?   
Seven reached out to trace the pink scar that ran down Rockets left bicep and he froze, holding his breath, waiting for some sign of disgust or rejection, but Seven simply curled closer to him; pressing against his side.  
“How did that happen?” She asked him curiously as he tentatively put his arm around her and drew her closer, laying her head on his shoulder.  
“I got grazed by Necroblast a little over a year ago by a Sakaaran foot soldier trying to kill Pete. Your Brother is always a little careless than he should be on missions, but 70,000 units and half a dozen healing graphs free of charge compliments of Nova Corps later and here we are,” He shrugged, running a hand through her blanched hair without realizing what he was doing until she nuzzled closer, some basic and primal part of her seeking his scent, his warmth, his protection.   
“You could have died,” She said sadly, knowing that Necroblast was no laughing matter.  
“Well, Pete would have died if I hadn’t flown up with an aero-rig and intercepted and I couldn’t’ve let that happen to my best friend; but don’t tell him I said that because his damn heads big enough already as it is.” Rocket replied with a wink, making Seven chuckle softly.  
“Your secret’s safe with me,” She said, twining her tail with his and laying her head on his chest now; listening to the rhythm of their matching heartbeats. Rocket closed his eyes and lay his head back against the sofa, his hand continuing its repetitive journey through her hair over and over in a lazy pattern. Seven began to hum softly; her hand splaying over his abs, feeling the sleek muscled ridges beneath his shirt and the layers of his fur.   
“That’s pretty,” He sighed, listening to the melody, ”What song is it from?” He asked curiously, unable to place it.  
“I haven’t named it yet.” She replied, feeling shy about him finding out that she sang.  
“Sing it for me?” He asked, causing her to shake her head and bury her face in his chest in embarrassment.   
“Come on, why not?” He persisted, a laugh rumbling low in his chest as she covered her face with her hands.  
“I’m not as good as you are,” She replied, not quite able to meet his shocked gaze as he gaped at her.  
“You heard me last night?! Oh fuck….” Rocket said, closing his eyes and flopping his head back onto the sofa in embarrassment.  
“What? Your voice is amazing!” She said, slapping his chest lightly in admonishment.  
“Even better than Elton John,” She said with a wink of her own, making the inside of his ears redden in embarrassment and flattery before his head snapped in her direction and his eyes widened.  
“You knew that was Elton John?! What?” He gasped; gob smacked momentarily as she chuckled easily.  
“Dad made me listen to and learn all of these Terran songs that he used to listen to with Peters Mother. That’s where my voice comes from you know, Meredith Quill?” She said turning towards her duffel bag and rummaging around until she found the worn stack of notebooks at the bottom and pulled them out, handing Rocket a dogeared photo of Meredith with a guitar strung over her shoulder, Ego hugging her to himself from behind. Rockets eyes widened as he realized that Seven had the female Terrans eyes.  
“What do you mean that’s where your voice comes from?” Rocket asked, wondering what kind of sick shit Ego had done to Seven in creating her.  
“He gave me her eyes and her voice. He used to make me sing song after song to him for hours at a time until my throat hurt.” She confessed, not meeting his eyes for fear of rejection that she was so strangely made.  
“But the song you were humming is yours? You wrote it?” He asked, clarifying.  
“Yes. Despite Ego forcing me to sing all the time, I love it. I love music and I love singing. Sometimes I wonder if he made me that way too. Peters mother was a famous singer on Terra before……before my Father killed her.” She said with downcast eyes.  
“Pete never mentioned that. He doesn’t talk about her much; keeps it all bottled up, I guess. I’m sorry that Ego treated you that way.” Rocket said, gripping her hand in his own. Seven skipped over a few notebooks before handing one to him to read.  
“All of those songs are mine,” She said, looking incredibly vulnerable. He knew that she had just may as well have handed him a piece of her soul and he handled it just as delicately, turning the pages and reading silently until he came across one with lyrics that hit close to home for him.  
“Will you sing this one for me?” He asked softly, his voice devoid of the demand that was always present in Ego’s tone.  
“I can’t…… At least not by myself. It’s a duet,” She said, meeting his eyes and swallowing nervously.  
“Then we can do it together?” He offered, striding purposefully across the room to the holo-projector and typing in a few commands; a guitar appearing on the sofa in Rockets seat.   
“Your Start,” she said, setting the notebook down on the small coffee table in front of them so they could both see it. Rocket played some warmup struts before going into the melody on the page before him, letting the rhythm of the music relax him before singing the opening verse,  
“Tell me something girl, are you happy in this modern world? Or do you need more? Is there something else your searching for? I’m falling……. In all the good times I find Myself longing….for change, and in the bad times I fear myself….” Rocket sang, the familiar baritone filling the room and making Seven’s heart skip a beat with a combination of longing and nerves.  
“Tell me something Boy…... Aren’t you tired tryna fill that void? Or do you need more? Ain’t it hard keepin it so hardcore? I’m falling…… In all the good times I find myself longing for change…… And in the bad times I fear myself….”   
Rocket gaped as he heard her voice for the first time, nearly missing a note as he struggled to focus on accompanying her. And then her vibrato swelled, nearly shocking Rocket off of the couch as she increased her pitch.  
“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in, I’ll never meet the ground….crash through the surface, where they cant hurt us, we’re far from the shallow now—  
Rockets door hissed open suddenly without warning, framing a pale and tear-stained Peter Quill as he stared at Seven as though he were seeing or; in this case, hearing a ghost. Gamora came running up behind the stricken Terran followed closely by a confused Groot. Seven stopped singing as soon as she turned to see the heart-rending look on her Brothers face and Rockets guitar ground to a halt as he remembered belatedly that the soundproofing electro-field that normally shielded his quarters from the rest of the ship had malfunctioned over a month ago and he hadn’t bothered to repair it yet.

DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN! Muahahaha! I am such an evil Authoress to leave you with a cliff-hanger so to speak, but more to come 😊  
Of course, the song “Shallow” belongs to the epically talented Lady Gaga and the devastatingly handsome Bradley Cooper aka Rocket Raccoon, lol.  
I hope adding it wasn’t too cheesy, I think the lyrics echo Rockets and Sevens sufferings both during their experimentations at the hands of mad scientists and as they struggle with their demons to find peace with each other and their Guardian Fam.   
I AM SOOOO IN LOVE WITH WRITING THIS STORY! MAJOR SQUEE! IT’S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT LATELY AND I THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME! SEXY SPACE RACCOON KISSES TO YOU ALL! PLEASE KEEP READING/REVIEWING 😊


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